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Copyright,  1913,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 


Published,  September,  1913 


TO 
MAURICE  HOWE  RICHARDSON 

WHO  LOVED  ROMANCE  ALMOST  AS  MUCH  AS 

HE  LOVED  SURGERY,  THIS  LITTLE  STORY 

IS  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED  IN 

TOKEN  OF  TWO  PERSONS'  UN- 

FADING  MEMORIES 


282188 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

"So    that's    how    I    happened    to    go    into 

nursing!" Frontispiece 


FACING 
PAGE 


"Don't  ever  be  bumptious?"  squinted  the 
Senior  Surgeon  perplexedly  through 
his  glasses 64 

Together  they  sat  and  watched  the  gaseous 

yellow  flames  shoot  up  into  the  sky   .   130 

Precipitously     the     White     Linen     Nurse 

scrambled   to   her    feet 170 

"What    are    you    doing    here?"    he    fairly 

screamed  at  her 224 

He  was  inordinately  busy  releasing  the  last 

canary  from  the  fifth  cage  ....  232 


THE 
WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 


THE 
WHITE   LINEN  NURSE 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  White  Linen  Nurse  was  so  tired  that 
her  noble  expression  ached. 

Incidentally  her  head  ached  and  her  shoul 
ders  ached  and  her  lungs  ached  and  the  ankle- 
bones  of  both  feet  ached  quite  excruciatingly. 
But  nothing  of  her  felt  permanently  incapaci 
tated  except  her  noble  expression.  Like  a 
strip  of  lip-colored  lead  suspended  from  her 
poor  little  nose  by  two  tugging  wire-gray 
wrinkles  her  persistently  conscientious  sick 
room  smile  seemed  to  be  whanging  aimlessly 
against  her  front  teeth.  The  sensation  cer 
tainly  was  very  unpleasant. 

Looking  back  thus  on  the  three  spine-curv 
ing,  chest-cramping,  foot-twinging,  ether- 
scented  years  of  her  hospital  training,  it  dawned 
on  the  White  Linen  Nurse  very  suddenly  that 
3 


/.  .  THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

nothing  of  her  ever  had  felt  permanently  inca 
pacitated  except  her  noble  expression ! 

Impulsively  she  sprang  for  the  prim  white 
mirror  that  capped  her  prim  white  bureau  and 
stood  staring  up  into  her  own  entrancing, 
bright-colored  Novia  Scotian  reflection  with 
tense  and  unwonted  interest. 

Except  for  the  unmistakable  smirk  which 
fatigue  had  clawed  into  her  plastic  young 
mouth-lines  there  was  certainly  nothing  spe 
cial  the  matter  with  what  she  saw. 

"  Perfectly  good  face !  "  she  attested  ju 
dicially  with  no  more  than  common  courtesy 
to  her  progenitors.  "  Perfectly  good  and  tidy 
looking  face!  If  only  —  if  only —  her 
breath  caught  a  trifle.  "If  only  —  it  didn't 
look  so  disgustingly  noble  and  —  hygienic - 
and  dollish !  " 

All  along  the  back  of  her  neck  little  sharp 
prickly  pains  began  suddenly  to  sting  and 
burn. 

"  Silly  —  simpering  —  pink  and  white  pup 
pet!  "  she  scolded  squintingly,  "  I  '11  teach  you 
how  to  look  like  a  real  girl !  " 

Very  threateningly  she  raised  herself  to  her 
tiptoes  and  thrust  her  glowing,  corporeal  face 
4 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

right  up  into  the  moulten,  elusive,  quick-silver 
face  in  the  mirror.  Pink  for  pink,  blue  for 
blue,  gold  for  gold,  dollish  smirk  for  dollish 
smirk,  the  mirror  mocked  her  seething  inner 
fretfulness. 

"  Why  —  darn  you!"  she  gasped.     "Why 

—  darn  you !     Why,  you  looked  more  human 
than     that    when     you    left     the    Annapolis 
Valley  three  years  ago!     There  were  at  least 

—  tears  in  your  face  then,  and  —  cinders,  and 

—  your  mother's  best  advice,  and  the  worry 
about  the  mortgage,   and  —  and  —  the   blush 
of  Joe  Hazeltine's  kiss!  " 

Furtively  with  the  tip  of  her  index-finger 
she  started  to  search  her  imperturbable  pink 
cheek  for  the  spot  where  Joe  Hazeltine's  kiss 
had  formerly  flamed. 

"My  hands  are  all  right,  anyway!"  she 
acknowledged  with  infinite  relief.  Triumph 
antly  she  raised  both  strong,  stub-fingered,  ex 
aggeratedly  executive  hands  to  the  level  of  her 
childish  blue  eyes  and  stood  surveying  the 
mirrored  effect  with  ineffable  satisfaction. 
"  Why  my  hands  are  —  dandy !  "  she  gloated. 
"Why  they're  perfectly  —  dandy !  Why 
they  're  wonderful !  Wrhy  they  're  — ."  Then 
5 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

suddenly  and  fearfully  she  gave  a  shrill  little 
scream.  "  But  they  don't  go  with  my  silly 
doll-face!"  she  cried.  "Why,  they  don't! 
They  don't!  They  go  with  the  Senior  Sur 
geon's  scowling  Heidelberg  eyes!  They  go 
with  the  Senior  Surgeon's  grim  gray  jaw! 
They  go  with  the—  !  Oh!  what  shall  I  do? 
What  shall  I  do?" 

Dizzily,  with  her  stubby  finger-tips  prodded 
deep  into  every  jaded  facial  muscle  that  she 
could  compass,  she  staggered  towards  the  air, 
and  dropping  down  into  the  first  friendly  chair 
that  bumped  against  her  knees,  sat  staring 
blankly  out  across  the  monotonous  city  roofs 
that  flanked  her  open  window, —  trying  very, 
very  hard  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  to  con 
sider  the  General-Phenomenon-of-Being-a- 
Trained-Nurse. 

All  around  and  about  her,  inexorable  as 
anaesthesia,  horrid  as  the  hush  of  tomb  or  pub 
lic  library,  lurked  the  painfully  unmistakable 
sense  of  institutional  restraint.  Mournfully 
to  her  ear  from  some  remote  kitcheny  region 
of  pots  and  pans  a  browsing  spoon  tinkled 
forth  from  time  to  time  with  soft-muffled  res 
onance.  Up  and  down  every  clammy  white 
6 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

corridor  innumerable  young  feet,  born  to 
prance  and  stamp,  were  creeping  stealthily  to 
and  fro  in  rubber-heeled  whispers.  Along 
the  somber  fire-escape  just  below  her  window- 
sill,  like  a  covey  of  snubbed  doves,  six  or 
eight  of  her  classmates  were  cooing  and 
crooning  together  with  excessive  caution  con 
cerning  the  imminent  graduation  exercises 
that  were  to  take  place  at  eight  o'clock  that 
very  evening.  Beyond  her  dreariest  ken  of 
muffled  voices,  beyond  her  dingiest  vista  of 
slate  and  brick,  on  a  far  faint  hillside,  a  far 
faint  streak  of  April  green  went  roaming 
jocundly  skyward.  Altogether  sluggishly,  as 
though  her  nostrils  were  plugged  with  warm 
velvet,  the  smell  of  spring  and  ether  and 
scorched  mutton-chops  filtered  in  and  out,  in 
and  out,  in  and  out,  of  her  abnormally  jaded 
senses. 

Taken  all  in  all  it  was  not  a  propitious  after 
noon  for  any  girl  as  tired  and  as  pretty  as 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  to  be  considering  the 
general  phenomenon  of  anything  —  except 
April ! 

In  the  real  country,  they  tell  me,  where  the 
Young  Spring  runs  wild  and  bare  as  a  nymph 
7 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

through  every  dull  brown  wood  and  hay-gray 
meadow,  the  blase  farmer-lad  will  not  even 
lift  his  eyes  from  the  plow  to  watch  the  pink- 
ness  of  her  passing.  But  here  in  the  prudish 
brick-minded  city  where  the  Young  Spring  at 
her  friskiest  is  nothing  more  audacious  than  a 
sweltering,  winter-swathed  madcap,  who  has 
impishly  essayed  some  fine  morning  to  tiptoe 
down  street  in  her  soft,  sloozily,  green,  silk- 
stockinged  feet,  the  whole  hob-nailed  popula 
tion  reels  back  aghast  and  agrin  before  the 
most  innocent  flash  of  the  rogue's  green-veiled 
toes.  And  then,  suddenly  snatching  off  its 
own  cumbersome  winter  foot-habits,  goes 
chasing  madly  after  her,  in  its  own  prankish, 
vari-colored  socks. 

Now  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  socks  were 
black,  and  cotton  at  that,  a  combination  incon- 
testably  sedate.  And  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
had  waded  barefoot  through  too  many  posied 
country  pastures  to  experience  any  ordinary 
city  thrill  over  the  sight  of  a  single  blade  of 
grass  pushing  scarily  through  a  crack  in  the 
pavement,  or  puny,  concrete-strangled  maple 
tree  flushing  wanly  to  the  smoky  sky.  Indeed 
for  three  hustling,  square-toed,  rubber-heeled 
8 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

city  years  the  White  Linen  Nurse  had  never 
even  stopped  to  notice  whether  the  season  was 
flavored  with  frost  or  thunder.  But  now,  un- 
explainably,  just  at  the  end  of  it  all,  sitting  in- 
nocently  there  at  her  own  prim  little  bedroom 
window,  staring  innocently  out  across  indomi 
table  roof-tops, —  with  the  crackle  of  glory  and 
diplomas  already  ringing  in  her  ears, —  she 
heard,  instead,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  the 
gaily  dare-devil  voice  of  the  spring,  a  hoy- 
denish  challenge  flung  back  at  her,  leaf-green, 
from  the  crest  of  a  winter-scarred  hill. 

"  Hello,  White  Linen  Nurse !  "  screamed 
the  saucy  city  spring.  "  Hello,  White  Linen 
Nurse!  Take  off  your  homely  starched  col 
lar!  Or  your  silly  candy -box  cap!  Or  any 
other  thing  that  feels  maddeningly  artificial ! 
And  come  out !  And  be  very  wild !  " 

Like  a  puppy  dog  cocking  its  head  towards 
some  strange,  unfamiliar  sound,  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  cocked  her  head  towards  the  lure 
of  the  green-crested  hill.  Still  wrestling  con 
scientiously  with  the  General-Phenomenon-of- 
Being-a-Trained-Nurse  she  found  her  collar 
suddenly  very  tight,  the  tiny  cap  inexpressibly 
heavy  and  vexatious.  Timidly  she  removed 
9 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

the  collar  —  and  found  that  the  removal  did 
not  rest  her  in  the  slightest.  Equally  timidly 
she  removed  the  cap  —  and  found  that  even 
that  removal  did  not  rest  her  in  the  slightest. 
Then  very,  very  slowly,  but  very,  very  per- 
meatingly  and  completely,  it  dawned  on  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  that  never  while  eyes  were 
blue,  and  hair  gold,  and  lips  red,  would  she 
ever  find  rest  again  until  she  had  removed  her 
noble  expression! 

With  a  jerk  that  started  the  pulses  in  her 
temples  throbbing  like  two  toothaches  she 
straightened  up  in  her  chair.  All  along  the 
back  of  her  neck  the  little  blonde  curls  began 
to  crisp  very  ticklingly  at  their  roots. 

Still  staring  worriedly  out  over  the  old 
city's  slate-gray  head  to  that  inciting  prance  of 
green  across  the  farthest  horizon  she  felt  her 
whole  being  kindle  to  an  indescribable  passion 
of  revolt  against  all  Hushed  Places.  Seeth 
ing  with  fatigue,  smoldering  with  ennui,  she 
experienced  suddenly  a  wild,  almost  incontrol- 
lable  impulse  to  sing,  to  shout,  to  scream  from 
the  housetops,  to  mock  somebody,  to  defy 
everybody,  to  break  lawfs,  dishes,  heads, —  any 
thing  in  fact  that  would  break  with  a  crash ! 
10 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

And  then  at  last,  over  the  hills  and  far  away, 
with  all  the  outraged  world  at  her  heels,  to 
run !  And  run !  And  run !  And  run !  And 
run!  And  laugh!  Till  her  feet  raveled 
out!  And  her  lungs  burst!  And  there  was 
nothing  more  left  of  her  at  all, —  ever  —  ever 

—  any  more ! 

Discordantly  into  this  rapturously  pagan 
vision  of  pranks  and  posies  broke  one  of  her 
room-mates  all  awhiff  with  ether,  awhirr 
with  starch. 

Instantly  with  the  first  creak  of  the  door 
handle  the  White  Linen  Nurse  was  on  her  feet, 
breathless,  resentful,  grotesquely  defiant. 

"Get  out  of  here,  Zillah  Forsyth!"  she 
cried  furiously.  "  Get  out  of  here  —  quick ! 

—  and  leave  me  alone!     I  want  to  think!  " 
Perfectly  serenely  the  newcomer  advanced 

into  the  room.  With  her  pale,  ivory-tinted 
cheeks,  her  great  limpid  brown  eyes,  her  soft 
dark  hair  parted  madonna-like  across  her  beau 
tiful  brow,  her  whole  face  was  like  some  ex 
quisite,  composite  picture  of  all  the  saints  of 
history.  Her  voice  also  was  amazingly  tran 
quil. 

"  Oh,  Fudge !  "  she  drawled.     "  What 's  eat- 
n 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

ing  you,  Rae  Malgregor?  I  won't  either  get 
out!  It's  my  room  just  as  much  as  it  is 
yours!  And  Helene's  just  as  much  as  it  is 
ours !  And  besides,"  she  added  more  briskly, 
"  it 's  four  o'clock  now,  and  with  graduation 
at  eight  and  the  dance  afterwards,  if  we  don't 
get  our  stuff  packed  up  now,  when  in  thunder 
shall  we  get  it  done?  "  Quite  irrelevantly  she 
began  to  laugh.  Her  laugh  was  perceptibly 
shriller  than  her  speaking  voice.  "  Say, 
Rae !  "  she  confided.  "  That  minister  I  nursed 
through  pneumonia  last  winter  wants  me  to 
pose  as  '  Sanctity '  for  a  stained-glass  window 
in  his  new  church !  Is  n't  he  the  softie?  " 

"  Shall  —  you  —  do  —  it  ?  "  quizzed  Rae 
Malgregor  a  trifle  tensely. 

"Shall  I  do  it?"  mocked  the  newcomer. 
"  Well,  you  just  watch  me!  Four  mornings  a 
week  in  June  —  at  full  week's  wages  ?  Fresh 
Easter  lilies  every  day?  White  silk  angel- 
robes?  All  the  high-souls  and  high-paints 
kowtowing  around  me?  Why  it  would  be 
more  fun  than  a  box  of  monkeys !  Sure  I  '11 
doit!" 

Expeditiously  as  she  spoke  the  newcomer 
reached  up  for  the  framed  motto  over  her  own 
12 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

ample  mirror  and  yanking  it  down  with  one 
single  tug  began  to  busy  herself  adroitly  with 
a  snarl  in  the  picture-cord.  Like  a  withe  of 
willow  yearning  over  a  brook  her  slender  fig 
ure  curved  to  the  task.  Very  scintillatingly 
the  afternoon  light  seemed  to  brighten  sud 
denly  across  her  lap.  You  'II  Be  a  Long  Time 
Dead!  glinted  the  motto  through  its  sun-daz 
zled  glass. 

Still  panting  with  excitement,  still  bristling 
with  resentment,  Rae  Malgregor  stood  survey 
ing  the  intrusion  and  the  intruder.  A  dozen 
impertinent  speeches  were  rioting  in  her  mind. 
Twice  her  mouth  opened  and  shut  before  she 
finally  achieved  the  particular  opprobrium  that 
completely  satisfied  her. 

"Bah!  You  look  like  a  —  Trained 
Nurse!  "  she  blurted  forth  at  last  with  hysteri 
cal  triumph. 

"  So  do  you !  "  said  the  newcomer  amiably. 

With  a  little  gasp  of  dismay  Rae  Malgregor 
sprang  suddenly  forward.  Her  eyes  were 
flooded  with  tears. 

"  Why,  that 's  just  exactly  what 's  the  mat 
ter  with  me !  "  she  cried.  "  My  face  is  all 
worn  out  trying  to  look  like  a  Trained  Nurse ! 
13 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Oh,  Zillah,  how  do  you  know  you  were  meant 
to  be  a  Trained  Nurse?  How  does  anybody 
know  ?  Oh,  Zillah !  Save  me !  Save  me !  " 

Languorously  Zillah  Forsyth  looked  up 
from  her  work,  and  laughed.  Her  laugh  was 
like  the  accidental  tinkle  of  sleighbells  in  mid 
summer,  vaguely  disquieting,  a  shiver  of  frost 
across  the  face  of  a  lily. 

"  Save  you  from  what,  you  great  big  over 
grown,  tow-headed  doll-baby  ?  "  she  questioned 
blandly.  "  For  Heaven's  sake,  the  only  thing 
you  need  is  to  go  back  to  whatever  toy-shop 
you  came  from  and  get  a  new  head.  What  in 
Creation 's  the  matter  with  you  lately,  any 
way?  Oh,  of  course,  you've  had  rotten  luck 
this  past  month,  but  what  of  it?  That's  the 
trouble  with  you  country  girls.  You  have  n't 
got  any  stamina." 

With  slow,  shuffling-footed  astonishment 
Rae  Malgregor  stepped  out  into  the  center  of 
the  room.  "  Country  girls,"  she  repeated 
blankly.  "  Why,  you  're  a  country  girl  your 
self!" 

"  I  am  not ! "  snapped  Zillah  Forsyth. 
"  I  '11  have  you  understand  that  there  are  nine 
thousand  people  in  the  town  I  come  from  — 
14 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

and  not  a  rube  among  them.  Why  I  tended 
soda  fountain  in  the  swellest  drug-store  there 
a  whole  year  before  I  even  thought  of  taking 
up  nursing.  And  I  was  n't  as  green  —  when 
I  was  six  months  old  —  as  you  are  now !  " 

Slowly  with  a  soft-snuggling  sigh  of  con 
tentment  she  raised  her  slim  white  fingers  to 
coax  her  dusky  hair  a  little  looser,  a  little 
farther  down,  a  little  more  madonna-like 
across  her  sweet,  mild  forehead,  then  snatch 
ing  out  abruptly  at  a  convenient  shirt-waist 
began  with  extraordinary  skill  to  apply  its 
dangly  lace  sleeves  as  a  protective  bandage  for 
the  delicate  glass-faced  motto  still  in  her  lap, 
placed  the  completed  parcel  with  inordinate 
scientific  precision  in  the  exact  corner  of  her 
packing-box,  and  then  went  on  very  diligently, 
very  zealously,  to  strip  the  men's  photographs 
from  the  mirror  on  her  bureau.  There  were 
twenty-seven  photographs  in  all,  and  for  each 
one  she  had  already  cut  and  prepared  a  small 
square  of  perfectly  fresh,  perfectly  immacu 
late  white  tissue  wrapping-paper.  No  one  so 
transcendently  fastidious,  so  exquisitely  neat, 
in  all  her  personal  habits  had  ever  trained  in 
that  particular  hospital  before. 
15 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Very  soberly  the  doll-faced  girl  stood 
watching  the  men's  pleasant  paper  counte 
nances  smooth  away  one  by  one  into  their 
chaste  white  veilings,  until  at  last  quite  with 
out  warning  she  poked  an  accusing,  inquisitive 
finger  directly  across  Zillah  Forsyth's  shoul 
der. 

"  Zillah ! "  she  demanded  peremptorily. 
"  All  the  year  I  've  wanted  to  know !  All  the 
year  every  other  girl  in  our  class  has  wanted 
to  know!  Where  did  you  ever  get  that  pic 
ture  of  the  Senior  Surgeon?  He  never  gave 
it  to  you  in  the  world!  He  didn't!  He 
did  n't !  He  's  not  that  kind !  " 

Deeply  into  Zillah  Forsyth's  pale,  ascetic 
cheek  dawned  a  most  amazing  dimple.  "  Sort 
of  jarred  you  girls  some,  did  n't  it,"  she 
queried,  "to  see  me  strutting  round  with  a 
photo  of  the  Senior  Surgeon?"  The  little 
cleft  in  her  chin  showed  suddenly  with  almost 
startling  distinctness.  "Well,  seeing  it's 
you,"  she  grinned,  "  and  the  year  's  all  over, 
and  there  's  nobody  left  that  I  can  worry  about 
it  any  more,  I  don't  mind  telling  you  in  the 
least  that  I  — bought  it  out  of  a  photo- 
16 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

grapher's  show-case !  There !  Are  you  satis 
fied  now? " 

With  easy  nonchalance  she  picked  up  the 
picture  in  question  and  scrutinized  it  shrewdly. 

"Lord!  What  a  face!"  she  attested. 
"  Nothing  but  granite !  Hack  him  with  a 
knife  and  he  would  n't  bleed  but  just  chip  off 
into  pebbles !  "  With  exaggerated  contempt 
she  shrugged  her  supple  shoulders.  "  Bah ! 
How  I  hate  a  man  like  that !  There  's  no  fun 
in  him!"  A  little  abruptly  she  turned  and 
thrust  the  photograph  into  Rae  Malgregor's 
hand.  "  You  can  have  it  if  you  want  to,"  she 
said.  "  I  '11  trade  it  to  you  for  that  lace 
corset-cover  of  yours!" 

Like  water  dripping  through  a  sieve  the 
photograph  slid  through  Rae  Malgregor's 
frightened  fingers.  With  nervous  apology  she 
stooped  and  picked  it  up  again  and  held  it 
gingerly  by  one  remotest  corner.  Her  eyes 
were  quite  wide  with  horror. 

"  Oh,  of  course  I  'd  like  the  —  picture,  well 
enough,"  she  stammered.  "  But  it  would  n't 
seem  —  exactly  respectful  to  —  to  trade  it  for 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"Oh,  very  well,"  drawled  Zillah  Forsyth. 
"  Tear  it  up  then !  " 

Expeditiously  with  frank,  non-sentimental 
fingers  Rae  Malgregor  tore  the  tough  card 
board  across,  and  again  across,  and  once  again 
across,  and  threw  the  conglomerate  fragments 
into  the  waste-basket.  And  her  expression  all 
the  time  was  no  more,  no  less,  than  the  ex 
pression  of  a  person  who  would  infinitely 
rather  execute  his  own  pet  dog  or  cat  than  risk 
the  possible  bungling  of  an  outsider.  Then 
like  a  small  child  trotting  with  infinite  relief 
to  its  own  doll-house  she  trotted  over  to  her 
bureau,  extracted  the  lace  corset-cover,  and 
came  back  with  it  in  her  hand  to  lean  across 
Zillah  Forsyth's  shoulder  again  and  watch  the 
men's  faces  go  slipping  off  into  oblivion. 
Once  again,  abruptly  without  warning,  she 
halted  the  process  with  a  breathless  exclama 
tion. 

"  Oh,  of  course  this  waist  is  the  only  one 
I  Ve  got  with  ribbons  in  it,"  she  asserted  ir 
relevantly.  "  But  I  'm  perfectly  willing  to 
trade  it  for  that  picture !  "  she  pointed  out 
with  unmistakably  explicit  finger-tip. 
18 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Chucklingly  Zillah  Forsyth  withdrew  the 
special  photograph  from  its  half -completed 
wrappings. 

"Oh!  Him?"  she  said.  "Oh,  that's  a 
chap  I  met  on  the  train  last  summer.  He  's  a 
brakeman  or  something.  He  's  a  — " 

Perfectly  unreluctantly  Rae  Malgregor 
dropped  the  fluff  of  lace  and  ribbons  into  Zil- 
lah's  lap  and  reached  out  with  cheerful  vora 
ciousness  to  annex  the  young  man's  picture 
to  her  somewhat  bleak  possessions.  "  Oh,  I 
don't  care  a  rap  who  he  is,"  she  interrupted 
briskly.  "  But  he  's  sort  of  cute-looking,  and 
I  Ve  got  an  empty  frame  at  home  just  that  odd 
size,  and  Mother's  crazy  for  a  new  picture  to 
stick  up  over  the  kitchen  mantelpiece.  She 
gets  so  tired  of  seeing  nothing  but  the  faces  of 
people  she  knows  all  about." 

Sharply  Zillah  Forsyth  turned  and  stared 
up  into  the  younger  girl's  face,  and  found  no 
guile  to  whet  her  stare  against. 

"  Well  of  all  the  ridiculous  —  unmitigated 

greenhorns !  "  she  began.     "  Well  —  is  that  all 

you  wanted  him  for?     Why,  I  supposed  you 

wanted  to  write  to  him !     Why,  I  supposed  — " 

19 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

For  the  first  time  an  expression  not  alto 
gether  dollish  darkened  across  Rae  Malgreg- 
or's  garishly  juvenile  blo'ndeness. 

"  Maybe  I  'm  not  quite  as  green  as  you  think 
I  am!"  she  flared  up  stormily.  With  this 
sharp  flaring-up  every  single  individual  pulse 
in  her  body  seemed  to  jerk  itself  suddenly  into 
conscious  activity  again  like  the  soft,  plushy 
pound-pound-pound  of  a  whole  stocking- 
footed  regiment  of  pain  descending  single  file 
upon  her  for  her  hysterical  undoing.  "  May 
be  I  've  had  a  good  deal  more  experience  than 
you  give  me  credit  for !  "  she  hastened  excit 
edly  to  explain.  "I  tell  you-- 1  tell  you 
I  've  been  engaged !  "  she  blurted  forth  with  a 
bitter  sort  of  triumph. 

With  a  palpable  flicker  of  interest  Zillah 
Forsyth  looked  back  across  her  shoulder. 
"Engaged?  How  many  times?"  she  asked 
quite  bluntly. 

As  though  the  whole  monogamous  ground 
work  of  civilization  was  threatened  by  the 
question,  Rae  Malgregor's  hands  went  clutch 
ing  at  her  breast.  "  Why,  once!  "  she  gasped. 
"  Why,  once !  " 

Convulsively  Zillah  Forsyth  began  to  rock 
20 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

herself  to  and  fro.  "Oh  Lordy!"  she 
chuckled.  "Oh  Lordy,  Lordy!  Why  I've 
been  engaged  four  times  just  this  past  year !  " 
In  a  sudden  passion  of  fastidiousness  she  bent 
down  over  the  particular  photograph  in  her 
hand  and  snatching  at  a  handkerchief  began  to 
rub  diligently  at  a  small  smouch  of  dust  in  one 
corner  of  the  cardboard.  Something  in  the 
effort  of  rubbing  seemed  to  jerk  her  small 
round,  chin  into  almost  angular  prominence. 
"  And  before  I  'm  through,"  she  added,  at 
least  two  notes  below  her  usual  alto  tones, 
"  And  before  I  'm  through  —  I  'm  going  to  get 
engaged  to  —  every  profession  that  there  is  on 
the  surface  of  the  globe!"  Quite  helplessly 
the  thin  paper  skin  of  the  photograph  peeled 
off  in  company  with  the  smouch  of  dust. 
"  And  when  I  marry,"  she  ejaculated  fiercely, 
"  and  when  I  marry  —  I  'm  going  to  marry  a 
man  who  will  take  me  to  every  place  that  there 
is  —  on  the  surface  of  the  globe!  And  after 
that  —  !  " 

"After  what?"  interrogated  a  brand  new 
voice  from  the  doorway. 


21 


CHAPTER  II 

IT  was  the  other  room-mate  this  time.  The 
only  real  aristocrat  in  the  whole  graduating 
class,  high-browed,  high-cheekboned, —  eyes 
like  some  far-sighted  young  prophet, —  mouth 
even  yet  faintly  arrogant  with  the  ineradicable 
consciousness  of  caste, —  a  plain,  eager, 
stripped-for-a-long- journey  type  of  face,  — 
this  was  Helene  Churchill.  There  was  cer 
tainly  no  innocuous  bloom  of  country  hills  and 
pastures  in  this  girl's  face,  nor  any  seething 
small-town  passion  pounding  indiscriminately 
at  all  the  doors  of  experience.  The  men  and 
women  who  had  bred  Helene  Churchill  had 
been  the  breeders  also  of  brick  and  granite 
cities  since  the  world  was  new. 

Like  one  infinitely  more  accustomed  to 
treading  on  Persian  carpets  than  on  painted 
floors  she  came  forward  into  the  room. 

"Hello,  children!"  she  said  casually,  and 
began  at  once  without  further  parleying  to 
22 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

take  down  the  motto  that  graced  her  own  bu 
reau-top. 

It  was  the  era  when  almost  everybody  in  the 
world  had  a  motto  over  his  bureau.  Helene 
Churchill's  motto  was :  Inasmuch  As  Ye 
Have  Done  It  Unto  One  Of  The  Least  Of 
These  Ye  Have  Done  It  Unto  Me.  On  a 
scroll  of  almost  priceless  parchment  the  text 
was  illuminated  with  inimitable  Florentine 
skill  and  color.  A  little  carelessly,  after  the 
manner  of  people  quite  accustomed  to  priceless 
things,  she  proceeded  now  to  roll  the  parch 
ment  into  its  smallest  possible  circumference, 
humming  exclusively  to  herself  all  the  while 
an  intricate  little  air  from  an  Italian  opera. 

So  the  three  faces  foiled  each  other,  sober 
city  girl,  pert  town  girl,  bucolic  country  girl, 
—  a  hundred  fundamental  differences  rampant 
between  them,  yet  each  fervid,  adolescent 
young  mouth  tamed  to  the  same  monotonous, 
drolly  exaggerated  expression  of  complacency 
that  characterizes  the  faces  of  all  people  who, 
in  a  distinctive  uniform,  for  a  reasonably  satis 
factory  living  wage,  make  an  actual  profession 
of  righteous  deeds. 

Indeed  among  all  the  thirty  or  more  varie- 
23 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

ties  of  noble  expression  which  an  indomitable 
Superintendent  had  finally  succeeded  in  incul 
cating  into  her  graduating  class,  no  other  phy 
siognomies  had  responded  more  plastically 
perhaps  than  these  three  to  the  merciless  im 
print  of  the  great  hospital  machine  which,  in 
pursuance  of  its  one  repetitive  design,  dis 
cipline,  had  coaxed  Zillah  Forsyth  into  the 
semblance  of  a  lady,  snubbed  Helene  Churchill 
into  the  substance  of  plain  womanhood,  and, 
still  uncertain  just  what  to  do  with  Rae  Mal- 
gregor's  rollicking  rural  immaturity,  had 
frozen  her  face  temporarily  into  the  smugly 
dimpled  likeness  of  a  fancy  French  doll  rigged 
out  as  a  nurse  for  some  gilt-edged  hospital 
fair. 

With  characteristic  desire  to  keep  up  in 
every  way  with  her  more  mature,  better  edu 
cated  classmates,  to  do  everything,  in  fact,  so 
fast,  so  well,  that  no  one  should  possibly  guess 
that  she  had  n't  yet  figured  out  just  why  she 
was  doing  it  at  all,  Rae  Malgregor  now  with 
quickly  readjusted  cap  and  collar  began  to  hurl 
herself  into  the  task  of  her  own  packing. 
From  her  open  bureau  drawer,  with  a  sudden 
impish  impulse  towards  worldly  wisdom,  she 
24 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

extracted  first  of  all  the  photograph  of  the 
young  brakeman. 

"See,  Helene!  My  new  beau!"  she  gig 
gled  experimentally. 

In  mild-eyed  surprise  Helene  Churchill 
glanced  up  from  her  work.  "  Your  beau?" 
she  corrected.  "  Why,  that 's  Zillah's  pic 
ture." 

"  Well,  it 's  mine  now !  "  snapped  Rae  Mal- 
gregor  with  unexpected  edginess.  "  It 's  mine 
now  all  right.  Zillah  said  I  could  have  him! 
Zillah  said  I  could  —  write  to  him  —  if  I 
wanted  to !  "  she  finished  a  bit  breathlessly. 

Wider  and  wider  Helene  Churchill's  eyes 
dilated.  "  Write  to  a  man  —  whom  you  don't 
know?"  she  gasped.  "Why,  Rae!  Why,  it 
is  n't  even  —  very  nice  —  to  have  a  picture  of 
a  man  you  don't  know !  " 

Mockingly  to  the  edge  of  her  strong  white 
teeth  Rae  Malgregor's  tongue  crept  out  in  pink 
derision.  "Bah!"  she  taunted.  "What's 
'  nice '  ?  That 's  the  whole  matter  with  you, 
Helene  Churchill !  You  never  stop  to  con 
sider  whether  anything  's  fun  or  not ;  all  you 
care  is  whether  it 's  '  nice ' !  "  Excitedly 
she  turned  to  meet  the  cheap  little  wink  from 
25 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Zillah's  sainted  eyes.  "Bah!  What's 
'  nice '  ?  "  she  persisted  a  little  lamely.  Then 
suddenly  all  the  pertness  within  her  crumbled 
into  nothingness.  "  That 's  —  the  —  whole 
trouble  with  you,  Zillah  Forsyth !  "  she  stam 
mered.  "  You  never  give  a  hang  whether 
anything  's  nice  or  not ;  all  you  care  is  whether 
it 's  fun ! "  Quite  helplessly  she  began  to 
wring  her  hands.  "  Oh,  how  do  I  know  which 
one  of  you  girls  to  follow?"  she  demanded 
wildly.  "How  do  I  know  anything?  How 
does  anybody  know  anything?" 

Like  a  smoldering  fuse  the  rambling  query 
crept  back  into  the  inner  recesses  of  her  brain 
and  fired  once  more  the  one  great  question  that 
lay  dormant  there.  Impetuously  she  ran  for 
ward  and  stared  into  Helene  Churchill's  face. 
"  How  do  you  know  you  were  meant  to  be  a 
Trained  Nurse,  Helene  Churchill?"  she  began 
all  over  again.  "  How  does  anybody  know 
she  was  really  meant  to  be  one?  How  can 
anybody,  I  mean,  be  perfectly  sure?"  Like 
a  drowning  man  clutching  out  at  the  prover 
bial  straw,  she  clutched  at  the  parchment  in 
Helene  Churchill's  hand.  "I  mean  — where 
did  you  get  your  motto,  Helene  Churchill?" 
26 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

she  persisted  with  increasing  irritability.  "If 
—  you  don't  tell  me  —  I  '11  tear  the  whole 
thing  to  pieces !  " 

With  a  startled  frown  Helene  Churchill 
jerked  back  out  of  reach.  "  What 's  the  mat 
ter  with  you,  Rae  ?  "  she  quizzed  sharply,  and 
then  turning  round  quite  casually  to  her  book 
case  began  to  draw  from  the  shelves  one  by 
one  her  beloved  Marcus  Aurelius,  Words 
worth,  Robert  Browning.  "  Oh,  I  did  so 
want  to  go  to  China,"  she  confided  irrele 
vantly.  "  But  my  family  have  just  written 
me  that  they  won't  stand  for  it.  So  I  sup 
pose  I  '11  have  to  go  into  tenement  work  here 
in  the  city  instead."  With  a  visible  effort  she 
jerked  her  mind  back  again  to  the  feverish 
question  in  Rae  Malgregor's  eyes.  "  Oh,  you 
want  to  know  where  I  got  my  motto?"  she 
asked.  A  flash  of  intuition  brightened  sud 
denly  across  her  absent-mindedness.  "  Oh !  " 
she  smiled,  "  you  mean  you  want  to  know  — 
just  what  the  incident  was  that  first  made  me 
decide  to  —  devote  my  life  to  —  to  human 
ity?" 

"  Yes !  "  snapped  Rae  Malgregor. 

A  little  shyly  Helene  Churchill  picked  up 
27 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

her  copy  of  Marcus  Aurelius  and  cuddled  her 
cheek  against  its  tender  Morocco  cover. 
"  Really?"  she  questioned  with  palpable  hesi 
tation.  "  Really  you  want  to  know  ?  Why, 
why  —  it 's  rather  a  —  sacred  little  story  to 
me.  I  would  n't  exactly  want  to  have  any 
body  —  laugh  about  it." 

"Ill  laugh  if  I  want  to!"  attested  Zillah 
Forsyth  forcibly  from  the  other  side  of  the 
room. 

Like  a  pugnacious  boy,  Rae  Malgregor's 
fluent  fingers  doubled  up  into  two  firm  fists. 

"  I  '11  punch  her  if  she  even  looks  as  though 
she  wanted  to !  "  she  signaled  surreptitiously 
to  Helene. 

Shrewdly  for  an  instant  the  city  girl's  nar 
rowing  eyes  challenged  and  appraised  the  coun 
try  girl's  desperate  sincerity.  Then  quite 
abruptly  she  began  her  little  story. 

"  Why,  it  was  on  an  Easter  Sunday  —  Oh, 
ages  and  ages  ago,"  she  faltered.  "Why,  I 
could  n't  have  been  more  than  nine  years  old 
at  the  time."  A  trifle  self-consciously  she 
turned  her  face  away  from  Zillah  Forsyth's 
supercilious  smile.  "  And  I  was  coming  home 
from  a  Sunday  school  festival  in  my  best  white 
28 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

muslin  dress  with  a  big  pot  of  purple  pansies 
in  my  hand,"  she  hastened  somewhat  nerv 
ously  to  explain.  "  And  just  at  the  edge  of 
the  gutter  there  was  a  dreadful  drunken  man 
lying  in  the  mud  with  a  great  crowd  of  cruel 
people  teasing  and  tormenting  him.  And,  be 
cause  —  because  I  could  n't  think  of  anything 
else  to  do  about  it,  I  —  I  walked  right  up  to 
the  poor  old  creature, —  scared  as  I  could  be  — 
and  —  and  I  presented  him  with  my  pot  of 
purple  pansies.  And  everybody  of  course  be 
gan  to  laugh,  to  scream,  I  mean,  and  shout 
with  amusement.  And  I,  of  course,  began  to 
cry.  And  the  old  drunken  man  straightened 
up  very  oddly  for  an  instant,  with  his  bat 
tered  hat  in  one  hand  and  the  pot  of  pansies 
in  the  other, —  and  he  raised  the  pot  of  pansies 
very  high,  as  though  it  had  been  a  glass  of 
rarest  wine  —  and  bowed  to  me  as  —  rever 
ently  as  though  he  had  been  toasting  me  at  my 
father's  table  at  some  very  grand  dinner. 
And  '  Inasmuch ! '  he  said.  Just  that, — '  In 
asmuch  ! '  So  that 's  how  I  happened  to  go 
into  nursing!  "  she  finished  as  abruptly  as  she 
had  begun.  Like  some  wonderful  phosphor 
escent  manifestation  her  whole  shining  soul 
29 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

seemed  to  flare  forth  suddenly  through  her 
plain  face. 

With  honest  perplexity  Zillah  Forsyth 
looked  up  from  her  work. 

"  So  that 's  —  how  you  happened  to  go 
into  nursing?"  she  quizzed  impatiently.  Her 
long,  straight  nose  was  all  puckered  tight  with 
interrogation.  Her  dove-like  eyes  were  fairly 
dilated  with  slow-dawning  astonishment. 
"  You  —  don't  —  mean  ?  "  she  gasped.  "  You 
don't  mean  that  —  just  for  that — ?"  In 
credulously  she  jumped  to  her  feet  and  stood 
staring  blankly  into  the  city  girl's  strangely 
illuminated  features. 

"  Well,  if  I  were  a  swell  —  like  you !  "  she 
scoffed,  "  it  would  take  a  heap  sight  more  than 
a  drunken  man  munching  pansies  and  rum  and 
Bible-texts  to  —  to  jolt  me  out  of  my  limou 
sines  and  steam  yachts  and  Adirondack  bun 
galows  ! " 

Quite  against  all  intention  Helene  Church 
ill  laughed.  She  did  not  often  laugh.  Just 
for  an  instant  her  eyes  and  Zillah  Forsyth's 
clashed  together  in  the  irremediable  antago 
nism  of  caste, —  the  Plebeian's  scornful  impa 
tience  with  the  Aristocrat,  equaled  only  by  the 
30 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Aristocrat's  condescending  patience  with  the 
Plebeian. 

It  was  no  more  than  right  that  the  Aristo 
crat  should  recover  her  self-possession  first. 
"  Never  mind  about  your  understanding,  Zil- 
lah  dear,"  she  said  softly.  "  Your  hair  is  the 
most  beautiful  thing  I  ever  saw  in  my  life!" 

Along  Zillah  Forsyth's  ivory  cheek  an  in 
congruous  little  flush  of  red  began  to  show. 
With  much  more  nonchalance  than  \vas  really 
necessary  she  pointed  towards  her  half-packed 
trunk. 

"  It  was  n't  —  Sunday  school  —  I  was  com 
ing  home  from  —  when  I  got  my  motto !  "  she 
remarked  dryly,  with  a  wink  at  no  one  in  par 
ticular.  "  And,  so  far  as  I  know,"  she  pro 
ceeded  with  increasing  sarcasm,  "  the  man 
who  inspired  my  noble  life  was  not  in  any 
way  —  particularly  addicted  to  the  use  of  alco 
holic  beverages !  "  As  though  her  collar  was 
suddenly  too  tight  she  rammed  her  finger  down 
between  her  stiff  white  neck-band  and  her  soft 
white  throat.  "  He  was  a  —  New  York  doc 
tor  !  "  she  hastened  somewhat  airily  to  explain. 
"  Gee !  But  he  was  a  swell !  And  he  was 
spending  his  summer  holiday  up  in  the  same 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Maine  town  where  I  was  tending  soda  foun 
tain.  And  he  used  to  drop  into  the  drug-store, 
nights,  after  cigars  and  things.  And  he  used 
to  tell  me  stories  about  the  drugs  and  things, 
sitting  up  there  on  the  counter  swinging  his 
legs  and  pointing  out  this  and  that, —  quinine, 
ipecac,  opium,  hasheesh, —  all  the  silly  pat 
ent  medicines,  every  sloppy  soothing  syrup! 
Lordy !  He  knew  'em  as  though  they  were 
people!  Where  they  come  from!  Where 
they  're  going  to !  Yarns  about  the  tropics 
that  would  kink  the  hair  along  the  nape  of 
your  neck!  Jokes  about  your  own  town's 
soup-kettle  pharmacology  that  would  make  you 
yell  for  joy !  Gee  !  But  the  things  that  man 
had  seen  and  known !  Gee !  But  the  things 
that  man  could  make  you  see  and  know !  And 
he  had  an  automobile,"  she  confided  proudly. 
"  It  was  one  of  those  billion  dollar  French 
cars.  And  I  lived  just  round  the  corner  from 
the  drug-store.  But  we  used  to  ride  home  by 
way  of  —  New  Hampshire !  " 

Almost  imperceptibly  her  breath  began  to 
quicken.     "  Gee !     Those   nights !  "    she    mut 
tered.     "  Rain  or  shine,  moon  or  thunder,— 
tearing   down   those   country   roads   at   forty 
32 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

miles  an  hour,  singing,  hollering,  whispering! 
It  was  him  that  taught  me  to  do  my  hair  like 
this  —  instead  of  all  the  cheap  rats  and  pom 
padours  every  other  kid  in  town  was  wearing," 
she  asserted,  quite  irrelevantly;  then  stopped 
with  a  quick,  furtive  glance  of  suspicion  to 
wards  both  her  listeners  and  mouthed  her  way 
delicately  back  to  the  beginning  of  her  sen 
tence  again.  "  It  was  he  that  taught  me  to 
do  my  hair  like  this,"  she  repeated  with  the 
faintest  possible  suggestion  of  hauteur. 

For  one  reason  or  another  along  the  exqui 
sitely  chaste  curve  of  her  cheek  a  narrow 
streak  of  red  began  to  show  again. 

"  And  he  went  away  very  sudden  at  the 
last,"  she  finished  hurriedly.  "  It  seems  he 
was  married  all  the  time."  Blandly  she  turned 
her  wonderful  face  to  the  caressing  light. 
"  And  —  I  hope  he  goes  to  Hell !  "  she  added 
perfectly  simply. 

With  a  little  gasp  of  astonishment,  shock, 
suspicion,  distaste,  Helene  Churchill  reached 
out  an  immediate  conscientious  hand  to  her. 

"  Oh,  Zillah !  "  she  began.  "  Oh,  poor  Zil- 
lah  dear!  I'm  so  —  sorry!  I'm  so — " 

Absolutely  serenely,  through  a  mask  of  in- 
33 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

science  and   ice,   Zillah   Forsyth   ignored   the 
proffered  hand. 

"  I  don't  know  what  particular  call  you  've 
got  to  be  sorry  for  me,  Helene  Churchill,"  she 
drawled  languidly.  "  I  Ve  got  my  character, 
same  as  you  've  got  yours.  And  just  about 
nine  times  as  many  good  looks.  And  when 
it  comes  to  nursing—  Like  an  alto  song 
pierced  suddenly  by  one  shrill  treble  note,  the 
girl's  immobile  face  sharpened  transiently  with 
a  single  jagged  flash  of  emotion.  "  And  when 
it  comes  to  nursing?  Ha!  Helene  Church 
ill!  You  can  lead  your  class  all  you  want  to 
with  your  silk-lined  manners  and  your  fuddy- 
duddy  book-talk!  But  when  genteel  people 
like  you  are  moping  round  all  ready  to  fold 
your  patients'  hands  on  their  breasts  and  mur 
mur  '  Thy  will  be  done,' —  why,  that 's  the 
time  that  little  '  yours  truly '  is  just  beginning 
to  roll  up  her  sleeves  and  get  to  work !  " 

With  real  passion  her  slender  fingers  went 
clutching  again  at  her  harsh  linen  collar.  "  It 
isn't  you,  Helene  Churchill,"  she  taunted, 
"that's  ever  been  to  the  Superintendent  on 
your  bended  knees  and  begged  for  the  rabies 
cases  —  and  the  small-pox!  Gee!  You  like 
34 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

nursing  because  you  think  it 's  pious  to  like  it ! 
But  I  like  it  —  because  I  like  it!"  From 
brow  to  chin  as  though  fairly  stricken  with 
sincerity  her  whole  bland  face  furrowed 
startlingly  with  crude  expressiveness.  '*  The 
smell  of  ether!"  she  stammered.  "It's  like 
wine  to  me!  The  clang  of  the  ambulance 
gong?  I'd  rather  hear  it  than  fire-engines! 
I  'd  crawl  on  my  hands  and  knees  a  hundred 
miles  to  watch  a  major  operation!  I  wish 
there  was  a  war !  I  'd  give  my  life  to  see  a 
cholera  epidemic !  " 

Abruptly  as  it  came  the  passion  faded  from 
her  face,  leaving  every  feature  tranquil  again, 
demure,  exaggeratedly  innocent.  With  sac 
charine  sweetness  she  turned  to  Rae  Mai- 
gregor. 

"Now,  Little  One,"  she  mocked,  "tell  us 
the  story  of  your  lovely  life.  Having  heard 
me  coyly  confess  that  I  went  into  nurs 
ing  because  I  had  such  a  crush  on  this  world, 
—  and  Helene  here  brazenly  affirm  that  she 
went  into  nursing  because  she  had  such  a 
crush  on  the  world  to  come, —  it 's  up  to  you 
now  to  confide  to  us  just  how  you  happened 
to  take  up  so  noble  an  endeavor!  Had  you 

35 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

seen  some  of  the  young  house  doctors'  beauti 
ful,  smiling  faces  depicted  in  the  hospital 
catalogue?  Or  was  it  for  the  sake  of  the 
Senior  Surgeon's  grim,  gray  mug  that  you 
jilted  your  poor  plow-boy  lover  way  up  in  the 
Annapolis  Valley?" 

"  Why,  Zillah !  "  gasped  the  country  girl. 
"  Why,  I  think  you  're  perfectly  awful !  Why, 
Zillah  Forsyth!  Don't  you  ever  say  a  thing 
like  that  again!  You  can  joke  all  you  want 
to  about  the  flirty  young  Internes.  They  're 
nothing  but  fellows.  But  it  is  n't  —  it  is  n't 
respectful  —  for  you  to  talk  like  that  about 
the  Senior  Surgeon.  He's  too  —  too  terrify 
ing!  "  she  finished  in  an  utter  panic  of  conster 
nation. 

"  Oh,  now  I  know  it  was  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  that  made  you  jilt  your  country  beau!  " 
taunted  Zillah  Forsyth  with  soft  alto  sarcasm. 

"I  didn't,  either,  jilt  Joe  Hazeltine!" 
stormed  Rae  Malgregor  explosively.  Backed 
up  against  her  bureau,  eyes  flaming,  breast 
heaving,  little  candy-box  cap  all  tossed  askew 
over  her  left  ear,  she  stood  defying  her  tor 
mentor.  "  I  did  n't,  either,  jilt  Joe  Hazel- 
tine  !  "  she  reasserted  passionately.  "  It  was 

36 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Joe  Hazeltine  that  jilted  me!  And  we  'd  been 
going  together  since  we  were  kids!  And 
now  he 's  married  the  dominie's  daughter 
and  they  Ve  got  a  kid  of  their  own  most  as 
old  as  he  and  I  were  when  we  first  began  court 
ing  each  other.  And  it 's  all  because  I  insisted 
on  being  a  trained  nurse,"  she  finished  shrilly. 

With  an  expression  of  real  shock  Helene 
Churchill  peered  up  from  her  lowly  seat  on 
the  floor. 

"  You  mean?  "  she  asked  a  bit  breathlessly. 
"  You  mean  that  he  did  n't  want  you  to  be  a 
trained  nurse  ?  You  mean  that  he  was  n't  big 
enough, —  was  n't  fine  enough  to  appreciate 
the  nobility  of  the  profession?" 

"  Nobility  nothing !  "  snapped  Rae  Mal- 
gregor.  "  It  was  me  scrubbing  strange  men 
with  alcohol  that  he  could  n't  stand  for !  And 
I  don't  know  as  I  exactly  blame  him,"  she 
added  huskily.  "  It  certainly  is  a  good  deal 
of  a  liberty  when  you  stop  to  think  about 
it." 

Quite  incongruously  her  big,  childish,  blue 
eyes  narrowed  suddenly  into  two  dark,  cal 
culating  slits.  "  It 's  comic,"  she  mused, 
"  how  there  is  n't  a  man  in  the  world  who 
37 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

would  stand  letting  his  wife  or  daughter  or 
sister  have  a  male  nurse.  But  look  at  the  jobs 
we  girls  get  sent  out  on !  It 's  very  con f us- 
ing!" 

With  sincere  appeal  she  turned  to  Zillah 
Forsyth.  "  And  yet  —  and  yet,"  she  stam 
mered.  "  And  yet  —  when  everything  scary 
that 's  in  you  has  once  been  scared  out  of  you, 
—  why,  there  's  nothing  left  in  you  to  be  scared 
with  any  more,  is  there?  " 

"  What  ?  What  ?  "  pleaded  Helene  Church 
ill.  "Say  it  again!  What?" 

"  That 's  what  Joe  and  I  quarreled  about  my 
first  vacation  home ! "  persisted  Rae  Mal- 
gregor.  "  It  was  a  traveling  salesman's 
thigh.  It  was  broken  bad.  Somebody  had 
to  take  care  of  it.  So  I  did !  Joe  thought  it 
was  n't  modest  to  be  so  willing."  With  a  per 
plexed  sort  of  defiance  she  raised  her  square 
little  chin.  "But  you  see  I  was  willing!" 
she  said.  "  I  was  perfectly  willing.  Just  one 
single  solitary  year  of  hospital  training  had 
made  me  perfectly  willing.  And  you  can't 
ww-willing  a  willing  —  even  to  please  your 
beau,  no  matter  how  hard  you  try !  "  With 
a  droll  admixture  of  shyness  and  disdain  she 

38 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

tossed  her  curly  blonde  head  a  trifle  higher. 
"  Shucks !  "  she  attested.  "  What 's  a  travel 
ing  salesman's  thigh  ?  " 

"  Shucks  yourself ! "  scoffed  Zillah  For- 
syth.  "  What 's  a  silly  beau  or  two  up  in 
Nova  Scotia  to  a  girl  with  looks  like  you? 
You  could  have  married  that  typhoid  case  a 
dozen  times  last  winter  if  you  'd  crooked  your 
little  finger!  Why,  the  fellow  was  crazy 
about  you.  And  he  was  richer  than  Crcesus. 
What  queered  it?"  she  demanded  bluntly. 
"  Did  his  mother  hate  you?  " 

Like  one  fairly  cramped  with  astonishment 
Rae  Malgregor  doubled  up  very  suddenly  at 
the  waist-line,  and  thrusting  her  neck  oddly 
forward  after  the  manner  of  a  startled  crane, 
stood  peering  sharply  round  the  corner  of  the 
rocking-chair  at  Zillah  Forsyth. 

"  Did  his  mother  hate  me  ?  "  she  gasped. 
"  Did  —  his  —  mother  —  hate  —  me  ?  Well, 
what  do  you  think  ?  With  me  who  never  even 
saw  plumbing  till  I  came  down  here,  setting 
out  to  explain  to  her  with  twenty  tiled  bath 
rooms  how  to  be  hygienic  though  rich?  Did 
his  mother  hate  me?  Well,  what  do  you 
think?  With  her  who  bore  him,  her  who 
39 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

bore  him,  mind  you,  kept  waiting  down  stairs 
in  the  hospital  ante-room  —  half  an  hour  every 
day  —  on  the  raw  edge  of  a  rattan  chair  — 
waiting  —  worrying  —  all  old  and  gray  and 
scared  —  while  little  young,  perky,  pink  and 
white  me  is  upstairs  —  brushing  her  own 
son's  hair  and  washing  her  own  son's  face  — 
and  altogether  getting  her  own  son  ready  to 
see  his  own  mother!  And  then  me  obliged 
to  turn  her  out  again  in  ten  minutes,  flip  as 
you  please,  for  fear  she  'd  stayed  too  long, — 
while  I  stay  on  the  rest  of  the  night  ?  Did  his 
mother  hate  me!" 

Stealthily  as  an  assassin  she  crept  around 
the  corner  of  the  rocking-chair  and  grabbed 
Zillah  Forsyth  by  her  astonished  linen  shoul 
der. 

"Did  his  mother  hate  me?"  she  persisted 
mockingly.     "  Did  his  mother  hate  me  ?    Well 
rather!     Is  there  any   woman   from  here  to 
Kamchatka  who  does  n't  hate  us  ?     Is  there  any 
woman  from  here  to  Kamchatka  who  does  n't 
look  upon  a  trained  nurse  as  her  natural  br-r 
enemy?     I  don't  blame  'em!  "  she  added  ch 
ingly.     "Look  at  the  impudent  jobs  we 
sent  out  on!     Quarantined  upstairs  for  week- 
40 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

at  a  time  with  their  inflammable,  diphtheritic 
bridegrooms  —  while  they  sit  down  stairs  — 
brooding  over  their  wedding  teaspoons !  Hiked 
off  indefinitely  to  Atlantic  City  with  their 
gouty  bachelor  uncles!  Hearing  their  own 
innocent  little  sisters'  blood-curdling  death 
bed  deliriums !"  Snatching  their  own  new-born 
babies  away  from  their  breasts  and  showing 
them,  virgin-handed,  how  to  nurse  them  bet 
ter!  The  impudence  of  it,  I  say!  The 
disgusting,  confounded  impudence!  Doing 
things  perfectly  —  flippantly  -  -  right  —  for 
twenty-five  dollars  a  week  —  and  washing  — 
that  all  the  achin'  love  in  the  world  don't  know 
how  to  do  right  —  just  for  love!  " 

Furiously  she  began  to  jerk  her  victim's 
shoulder.  "  I  tell  you  it 's  awful,  Zilkm  For- 
syth !  "  she  insisted.  "  I  tell  you  I  just  won't 
stand  it !  " 

With  muscles  like  steel  wire  Zillah  Forsyth 
scrambled  to  her  feet,  and  pushed  Rae  Mal- 
gregor  back  against  the  bureau. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Rae,  shut  up !  "  she 
said.  "  What  in  Creation  's  the  matter  with 
you  to-day?  I  never  saw  you  act  so  before!  " 
With  real  concern  she  stared  into  the  girl's 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

turbid  eyes.  "  If  you  feel  like  that  about  it, 
what  in  thunder  did  you  go  into  nursing  for?  " 
she  demanded  not  unkindly. 

Very  slowly  Helene  Churchill  rose  from  her 
lowly  seat  by  her  precious  book-case  and  came 
round  and  looked  at  Rae  Malgregor  rather 
oddly.  "Yes,"  faltered  Helene  Churchill. 
"  What  did  you  go  into  nursing  for?"  The 
faintest  possible  taint  of  asperity  was  in  her 
voice. 

Quite  dumbly  for  an  instant  Rae  Malgreg- 
or's  natural  timidity  stood  battling  the  almost 
fanatic  professional  fervor  in  Helene  Church 
ill's  frankly  open  face,  the  raw,  scientific  pas 
sion,  of  very  different  caliber,  but  no  less 
intensity,  hidden  so  craftily  behind  Zillah  For- 
syth's  plastic  features.  Then  suddenly  her 
own  hands  went  clutching  back  at  the  bureau 
for  support,  and  all  the  flaming,  raging  red 
went  ebbing  out  of  her  cheeks,  leaving  her 
lips  with  hardly  blood  enough  left  to  work 
them. 

"  I  went  into  nursing,"  she  mumbled,  "  and 
it 's  God's  own  truth, —  I  went  into  nursing 
because  —  because  I  thought  the  uniforms 
were  so  cute." 

42 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Furiously,  the  instant  the  words  were  gone 
from  her  mouth,  she  turned  and  snarled  at 
Zillah's  hooting  laughter. 

"Well,  I  had  to  do  something!"  she  at 
tested.  The  defense  was  like  a  flat  blade 
slapping  the  air. 

Desperately  she  turned  to  Helene  Church 
ill's  goading,  faintly  supercilious  smile,  and 
her  voice  edged  suddenly  like  a  twisted  sword. 
"  Well,  the  uniforms  are  cute ! "  she  par 
ried.  "  They  are !  They  are !  I  bet  you 
there  's  more  than  one  girl  standing  high  in 
the  graduating  class  to-day  who  never  would 
have  stuck  out  her  first  year's  bossin'  and  slops 
and  worry  and  death  —  if  she  'd  had  to  stick 
it  out  in  the  unimportant  looking  clothes  she 
came  from  home  in!  Even  you,  Helene 
Churchill,  with  all  your  pious  talk, —  the  day 
they  put  your  coachman's  son  in  as  new  In 
terne  and  you  got  called  down  from  the  office 
for  failing  to  stand  when  Mr.  Young  Coach 
man  came  into  the  room,  you  bawled  all 
night, —  you  did, —  and  swore  you'd  chuck 
your  whole  job  and  go  home  the  next  day  — 
if  it  wasn't  that  you'd  just  had  a  life- 
size  photo  taken  in  full  nursing  costume  to 
43 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

send  to  your  brother's  chum  at  Yale!  So 
there!" 

With  a  gasp  of  ineffable  satisfaction  she 
turned  from  Helene  Churchill. 

"  Sure  the  uniforms  are  cute !  "  she  slashed 
back  at  Zillah  Forsyth.  "That's  the  whole 
trouble  with  'em.  They  're  so  awfully  — 
masqueradishly  —  cute!  Sure,  I  could  have 
got  engaged  to  the  Typhoid  Boy.  It  would 
have  been  as  easy  as  robbing  a  babe !  But  lots 
of  girls,  I  notice,  get  engaged  in  their  uni 
forms,  feeding  a  patient  perfectly  scientifically 
out  of  his  own  silver  spoon,  who  don't  seem  to 
stay  engaged  so  especially  long  in  their  own 
street  clothes,  bungling  just  plain  naturally 
with  their  own  knives  and  forks!  Even  you, 
Zillah  Forsyth,"  she  hacked,  "  even  you  who 
trot  round  like  the  Lord's  Anointed  in  your 
pure  white  togs,  you  're  just  as  Dutchy  look 
ing  as  anybody  else,  come  to  put  you  in  a  red 
hat  and  a  tan  coat  and  a  blue  skirt !  " 

Mechanically  she  raised  her  hands  to  her 
head  as  though  with  some  silly  thought  of 
keeping  the  horrid  pain  in  her  temples  from 
slipping  to  her  throat,  her  breast,  her  feet. 

"  Sure  the  uniforms  are  cute,"  she  persisted 
44 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

a  bit  thickly.  "  Sure  the  Typhoid  Boy  was 
crazy  about  me !  He  called  me  his  '  Holy 
Chorus  Girl,'  I  heard  him  —  raving1  in  his 
sleep.  Lord  save  us !  What  are  we  to  any 
man  but  just  that?"  she  questioned  hotly 
with  renewed  venom.  "  Parson,  actor,  young 
sinner,  old  saint  —  I  ask  you  frankly,  girls,  on 
your  word  of  honor,  was  there  ever  more  than 
one  man  in  ten  went  through  your  hands  who 
did  n't  turn  out  soft  somewhere  before  you 
were  through  with  him?  Hawking  about 
your  '  sweet  eyes '  while  you  're  wrecking 
your  optic  nerves  trying  to  decipher  the  dose 
on  a  poison  bottle!  Mooning  over  your  won 
derful  likeness  to  the  lovely  young  sister  they 
—  never  had !  Trying  to  kiss  your  finger  tips 
when  you  're  struggling  to  brush  their  teeth ! 
Teasin'  you  to  smoke  cigarettes  with  'em  — 
when  they  know  it  would  cost  you  your  job!  " 

Impishly,  without  any  warning,  she  crooked 
her  knee  and  pointed  at  one  homely  square- 
toed  shoe  in  a  mincy  dancing  step.  Hoyden- 
ishly  she  threw  out  her  arms  and  tried  to 
gather  Helene  and  Zillah  both  into  their  com 
pass. 

"  Oh,  you  Holy  Chorus  Girls !  "  she  chuckled 
45 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

with  maniacal  delight.  "  Everybody,  all  to 
gether,  now!  Kick  your  little  kicks!  Smile 
your  little  smiles!  Tinkle  your  little  ther 
mometers  !  Steady, —  there !  One  —  two  — 
three  —  One  —  two  —  three !  " 

Laughingly  Zillah  Forsyth  slipped  from  the 
grasp.  "  Don't  you  dare  '  holy  '  me !  "  she 
threatened. 

In  real  irritation  Helene  released  herself. 
"  I  'm  no  chorus  girl,"  she  said  coldly. 

With  a  little  shrill  scream  of  pain  Rae  Mal- 
gregor's  hands  went  flying  back  to  her  tem 
ples.  Like  a  person  giving  orders  in  a  great 
panic  she  turned  authoritatively  to  her  two 
room-mates,  her  fingers  all  the  while  boring 
frenziedly  into  her  temples. 

"  Now,  girls,"  she  warned,  "  stand  well 
back !  If  my  head  bursts,  you  know,  it 's  go 
ing  to  burst  all  to  slivers  and  splinters  —  like 
a  boiler!" 

"  Rae,  you  're  crazy !  "  hooted  Zillah. 

"  Just  plain  vulgar  —  looney,"  faltered 
Helene. 

Both  girls  reached  out  simultaneously  to 
push  her  aside. 

Somewhere  in  the  dusty,  indifferent  street 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

a  bird's  note  rang  out  in  one  wild,  delirious 
ecstasy  of  untrammeled  springtime.  To  all 
intents  and  purposes  the  sound  might  have 
been  the  one  final  signal  that  Rae  Malgregor's 
jangled  nerves  were  waiting  for. 

"  Oh,  I  am  crazy,  am  I  ?  "  she  cried  with 
a  new,  fierce  joy.  "  Oh,  I  am  crazy,  am  I  ? 
Well,  I  '11  go  ask  the  Superintendent  and  see 
if  I  am!  Oh,  surely  they  wouldn't  try  and 
make  me  graduate  if  I  really  was  crazy!  " 

Madly  she  bolted  for  her  bureau,  and 
snatching  her  own  motto  down,  crumpled  its 
face  securely  against  her  skirt  and  started  for 
the  door.  Just  what  the  motto  was  no  one 
but  herself  knew.  Sprawling  in  paint-brush 
hieroglyphics  on  a  great  flapping  sheet  of 
brown  wrapping-paper,  the  sentiment,  what 
ever  it  was,  had  been  nailed  face  down  to  the 
wall  for  three  tantalizing  years. 

"  No  you  don't !  "  cried  Zillah  now,  as  she 
saw  the  mystery  threatening  so  meanly  to  es 
cape  her. 

"  No  you  don't !  "  cried  Helene.  "  You  've 
seen  our  mottoes  —  and  now  we  're  going  to 
see  yours ! " 

Almost  crazed  with  new  terror  Rae  Mal- 
47 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

gregor  went  dodging  to  the  right, —  to  the  left, 
—  to  the  right  again, —  cleared  the  rocking- 
chair, —  a  scuffle  with  padded  hands, —  climbed 
the  trunk, —  a  race  with  padded  feet, —  reached 
the  door-handle  at  last,  yanked  the  door  open, 
and  with  lungs  and  temper  fairly  bursting 
with  momentum,  shot  down  the  hall, —  down 
some  stairs, —  down  some  more  hall, —  down 
some  more  stairs,  to  the  Superintendent's  of 
fice  where,  with  her  precious  motto  still 
clutched  securely  in  one  hand,  she  broke  upon 
that  dignitary's  startled,  near-sighted  vision 
like  a  young  whirl-wind  of  linen  and  starch 
and  flapping  brown  paper.  Breathlessly, 
without  prelude  or  preamble,  she  hurled  her 
grievance  into  the  older  woman's  grievance- 
dulled  ears. 

"  Give  me  back  my  own  face ! "  she  de 
manded  peremptorily.  "  Give  me  back  my 
own  face,  I  say !  And  my  own  hands !  I  tell 
you  I  want  my  own  hands!  Helene  and  Zil- 
lah  say  I  'm  insane !  And  I  want  to  go 
home!" 


48 


CHAPTER  III 

LIKE  a  short-necked  animal  elongated  sud 
denly  to  the  cervical  proportions  of  a 
giraffe,  the  Superintendent  of  Nurses  reared 
up  from  her  stoop-shouldered  desk-work  and 
stared  forth  in  speechless  astonishment  across 
the  top  of  her  spectacles. 

Exuberantly  impertinent,  ecstatically  self- 
conscious,  Rae  Malgregor  repeated  her  de 
mand.  To  her  parched  mouth  the  very  taste 
of  her  own  babbling  impudence  refreshed  her 
like  the  shock  and  prickle  of  cracked  ice. 

"  I  tell  you  I  want  my  own  face  again  I 
And  my  own  hands !  "  she  reiterated  glibly. 
"  I  mean  the  face  with  the  mortgage  in  it,  and 
the  cinders  —  and  the  other  human  expres 
sions  !  "  she  explained.  "  And  the  nice  grubby 
country  hands  that  go  with  that  sort  of  a 
face!" 

Very  accusingly  she  raised  her  finger  and 
shook  it  at  the  Superintendent's  perfectly  livid 
countenance. 

49 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Oh,  of  course  I  know  I  was  n't  very  much 
to  look  at.  But  at  least  I  matched !  What  my 
hands  knew,  I  mean,  my  face  knew !  Pies  or 
plowing  or  May-baskets,  what  my  hands  knew 
my  face  knew !  That 's  the  way  hands  and 
faces  ought  to  work  together!  But  you? 
you  with  all  your  rules  and  your  bossing  and 
your  everlasting  '  S — sh !  S — sh ! '  you  've 
snubbed  all  the  know-any  thing  out  of  my  face 
—  and  made  my  hands  nothing  but  two  dis 
connected  machines  —  for  somebody  else  to 
run !  And  I  hate  you !  You  're  a  Monster ! 
You  're  a  ,  everybody  hates  you !  " 

Mutely  then  she  shut  her  eyes,  bowed  her 
head,  and  waited  for  the  Superintendent  to 
smite  her  dead.  The  smite  she  felt  quite  sure 
would  be  a  noisy  one.  First  of  all,  she  rea 
soned  it  would  fracture  her  skull.  Naturally 
then  of  course  it  would  splinter  her  spine. 
Later  in  all  probability  it  would  telescope  her 
knee-joints.  And  never  indeed  now  that  she 
came  to  think  of  it  had  the  arches  of  her  feet 
felt  less  capable  of  resisting  so  terrible  an  im 
pact.  Quite  unconsciously  she  groped  out  a 
little  with  one  hand  to  steady  herself  against 
the  edge  of  the  desk. 

50 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

But  the  blow  when  it  came  was  nothing  but 
a  cool  finger  tapping  her  pulse. 

'  There !  There !  "  crooned  the  Superin 
tendent's  voice  with  a  most  amazing  tolerance. 

"  But  I  won't  '  there  —  there  ' !  "  snapped 
Rae  Malgregor.  Her  eyes  were  wide  open 
again  now,  and  extravagantly  dilated. 

The  cool  fingers  on  her  pulse  seemed  to 
tighten  a  little.  "  S— sh!  S— sh!"  ad 
monished  the  Superintendent's  mumbling  lips. 

"  But  I  won't  '  S— sh— S— sh  ' !  "  stormed 
Rae  Malgregor.  Never  before  in  her  three 
years'  hospital  training  had  she  seen  her 
arch-enemy,  the  Superintendent,  so  utterly  dis 
armed  of  irascible  temper  and  arrogant  dig 
nity,  and  the  sight  perplexed  and  maddened 
her  at  one  and  the  same  moment.  "  But 
I  won't  '  S— sh—  S— sh  ' !  "  Desperately 
she  jerked  her  curly  blonde  head  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  clock  on  the  wall.  "  Here  it 's  four 
o'clock  now !  "  she  cried.  "  And  in  less  than 
four  hours  you  're  going  to  try  and  make  me 
graduate  —  and  go  out  into  the  world  —  God 
knows  where  —  and  charge  innocent  people 
twenty-five  dollars  a  week  and  washing,  like 
lier  than  not,  mind  you,  for  these  hands,"  she 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

gestured,  "  that  don't  co-ordinate  at  all  with 
this  face/'  she  grimaced,  "  but  with  the 
face  of  one  of  the  House  Doctors  —  or  the 
Senior  Surgeon  —  or  even  you  —  who  may 
be  way  off  in  Kamchatka  —  when  I  need  him 
most!"  she  finished  with  a  confused  jumble 
of  accusation  and  despair. 

Still  with  unexplainable  amiability  the  Su 
perintendent  whirled  back  into  place  in  her 
pivot-chair  and  with  her  left  hand  which  had 
all  this  time  been  rummaging  busily  in  a  lower 
desk  drawer  proffered  Rae  Malgregor  a  small 
fold  of  paper. 

"Here,  my  dear,"  she  said.  "Here's  a 
sedative  for  you.  Take  it  at  once.  It  will 
quiet  you  perfectly.  We  all  know  you  've  had 
very  hard  luck  this  past  month,  but  you 
mustn't  worry  so  about  the  future."  The 
slightest  possible  tinge  of  purely  professional 
manner  crept  back  into  the  older  woman's 
voice.  "  Certainly,  Miss  Malgregor,  with 
your  judgment — " 

"With  my  judgment?"  cried  Rae  Mal 
gregor.  The  phrase  was  like  a  red  rag  to  her. 
"With  my  judgment?  Great  Heavens! 
That 's  the  whole  trouble !  I  have  n't  got  any 
52 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

judgment!  I've  never  been  allowed  to  have 
any  judgment !  All  I  Ve  ever  been  allowed  to 
have  is  the  judgment  of  some  flirty  young  med 
ical  student  —  or  the  House  Doctor !  —  or  the 
Senior  Surgeon !  —  or  you !  " 

Her  eyes  were  fairly  piteous  with  terror. 

"  Don't  you  see  that  my  face  does  n't  know 
anything?  "  she  faltered,  "  except  just  to  smile 
and  smile  and  smile  and  say  '  Yes,  sir  —  No, 
sir  —  Yes,  sir  '  ?  "  From  curly  blonde  head 
to  square-toed,  commonsense  shoes  her  little 
body  began  to  quiver  suddenly  like  the  advent 
of  a  chill.  "  Oh,  what  am  I  going  to  do,"  she 
begged,  "  when  I  'm  way  off  alone  —  some 
where  —  in  the  mountains  —  or  a  tenement  — 
or  a  palace  —  and  something  happens  —  and 
there  is  n't  any  judgment  round  to  tell  me 
what  I  ought  to  do?  " 

Abruptly  in  the  doorway  as  though  sum 
moned  by  some  purely  casual  flicker  of  the 
Superintendent's  thin  fingers  another  nurse 
appeared. 

'  Yes,    I    rang,"    said    the    Superintendent. 

Go  and  ask  the  Senior  Surgeon  if  he  can 
come  to  me  here  a  moment,  immediately." 

'  The  Senior  Surgeon  ?  "  gasped  Rae  Mal- 
53 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

gregor.  "The  Senior  Surgeon?"  With 
her  hands  clutching  at  her  throat  she  reeled 
back  against  the  wall  for  support.  Like  a 
shore  bereft  in  one  second  of  its  tide,  like  a 
tree  stripped  in  one  second  of  its  leafage,  she 
stood  there,  utterly  stricken  of  temper  or  pas 
sion  or  any  animating  human  emotion  what 
soever. 

"  Oh,  now  I  'm  going  to  be  expelled !  Oh, 
now  I  know  I  'm  going  to  be  —  expelled !  " 
she  moaned  listlessly. 

Very  vaguely  into  the  farthest  radiation  of 
her  vision  she  sensed  the  approach  of  a 
man.  Gray-haired,  gray-bearded,  gray-suited, 
grayly  dogmatic  as  a  block  of  granite,  the 
Senior  Surgeon  loomed  up  at  last  in  the  door 
way. 

"  I  'm  in  a  hurry,"  he  growled.      '  What 's 

the  matter?" 

Precipitously  Rae  Malgregor  collapsed  into 
the  breach. 

"Oh,  there 's  —  nothing  at  all  the  matter, 
sir,"  she  stammered.  "  It 's  only  —  it 's  only 
that  I  've  just  decided  that  I  don't  want  to  be 
a  trained  nurse." 

With  a  gesture  of  ill-concealed  impatience 

54 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

the  Superintendent  shrugged  the  absurd  speech 
aside. 

"  Dr.  Faber,"  she  said,  "  won't  you  just 
please  assure  Miss  Malgregor  once  more  that 
the  little  Italian  boy's  death  last  week  was  in 
no  conceivable  way  her  fault, —  that  nobody 
blames  her  in  the  slightest,  or  holds  her  in  any 
possible  way  responsible." 

"  Why,  what  nonsense !  "  snapped  the  Senior 
Surgeon.  "What  —  !" 

"  And  the  Portuguese  woman  the  week  be 
fore  that,"  interrupted  Rae  Malgregor  dully. 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense !  "  said  the  Senior  Sur 
geon.  "  It 's  nothing  but  coincidence !  Pure 
coincidence !  It  might  have  happened  to  any 
body!" 

"  And  she  has  n't  slept  for  almost  a  fort 
night,"  the  Superintendent  confided,  "  nor 
touched  a  drop  of  food  or  drink,  as  far  as  I 
can  make  out,  except  just  black  coffee.  I  've 
been  expecting  this  break-down  for  some 
days." 

"  And-  the-young-drug-store-  clerk- the-week- 
before-that,"  Rae  Malgregor  resumed  with 
sing-song  monotony. 

Brusquely  the  Senior  Surgeon  stepped  for- 
55 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

ward  and  taking  the  girl  by  her  shoulders, 
jerked  her  sharply  round  to  the  light,  and,  with 
firm,  authoritative  fingers,  rolled  one  of  her 
eyelids  deftly  back  from  its  inordinately  di 
lated  pupil.  Equally  brusquely  he  turned 
away  again. 

"  Nothing  but  moonshine ! "  he  muttered. 
"  Nothing  in  the  world  but  too  much  coffee 
dope  taken  on  an  empty  stomach, — '  empty 
brain/  I  'd  better  have  said !  When  will  you 
girls  ever  learn  any  sense  ? "  With  search 
light  shrewdness  his  eyes  flashed  back  for  an 
instant  over  the  haggard  gray  lines  that 
slashed  along  the  corners  of  her  quivering, 
childish  mouth.  A  bit  temperishly  he  began 
to  put  on  his  gloves.  "  Next  time  you  set  out 
to  have  a  *  brain-storm,'  Miss  Malgregor,"  he 
suggested  satirically,  "  try  to  have  it  about 
something  more  sensible  than  imagining  that 
anybody  is  trying  to  hold  you  personally  re 
sponsible  for  the  existence  of  death  in  the 
world.  Bah!"  he  ejaculated  fiercely.  "If 
you  are  going  to  fuss  like  this  over  cases  hope 
lessly  moribund  from  the  start,  what  in  thun 
der  are  you  going  to  do  some  fine  day  when  out 
of  a  perfectly  clear  and  clean  sky  Security  it- 

56 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

self  turns  septic  and  you  lose  the  President  of 
the  United  States  —  or  a  mother  of  nine  chil 
dren  —  with  a  hang-nail  ?  " 

"  But  I  was  n't  fussing,  sir !  "  protested  Rae 
Malgregor  with  a  timid  sort  of  dignity. 
"  Why,  it  never  had  occurred  to  me  for  a  mo 
ment  that  anybody  blamed  me  for  —  any 
thing!"  Just  from  sheer  astonishment  her 
hands  took  a  new  clutch  into  the  torn  flapping 
corner  of  the  motto  that  she  still  clung  des 
perately  to  even  at  this  moment. 

"For  Heaven's  sake  stop  crackling  that 
brown  paper!"  stormed  the  Senior  Sur 
geon. 

"  But  I  was  n't  crackling  the  brown  paper, 
sir!  It 's  crackling  itself,"  persisted  Rae  Mal 
gregor  very  softly.  The  great  blue  eyes  that 
lifted  to  his  were  brimming  full  of  misery. 
"Oh,  can't  I  make  you  understand,  sir?"  she 
stammered.  Appealingly  she  turned  to  the 
Superintendent.  "  Oh,  can't  I  make  anybody 
understand  ?  All  I  was  trying  to  say,-—  all  I 
was  trying  to  explain,  was  — that  I  don't 
want  to  be  a  trained  nurse  —  after  all! " 

"  Why  not?  "  demanded  the  Senior  Surgeon 
with  a  rather  noisy  click  of  his  glove  fasteners. 
57 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Because  —  my  —  face  —  is  —  tired,"  said 
the  girl  quite  simply. 

The  explosive  wrath  on  the  Senior  Sur 
geon's  countenance  seemed  to  be  directed  sud 
denly  at  the  Superintendent. 

"Is  this  an  afternoon  tea?"  he  asked 
tartly.  "  With  six  major  operations  this 
morning  and  a  probable  meningitis  diagnosis 
ahead  of  me  this  afternoon  I  think  I  might  be 
spared  the  babblings  of  an  hysterical  nurse!  " 
Casually  over  his  shoulder  he  nodded  at  the 
girl.  "  You  're  a  fool !  "  he  said,  and  started 
for  the  door. 

Just  on  the  threshold  he  turned  abruptly  and 
looked  back.  His  forehead  was  furrowed  like 
a  corduroy  road  and  the  one  rampant  question 
in  his  mind  at  the  moment  seemed  to  be  mired 
hopelessly  between  his  bushy  eyebrows. 

"Lord!"  he  exclaimed  a  bit  flounder ingly. 
"  Are  you  the  nurse  that  helped  me  last  week 
on  that  fractured  skull  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Rae  Malgregor. 

Jerkily  the  Senior  Surgeon  retraced  his 
footsteps  into  the  office  and  stood  facing  her 
as  though  with  some  really  terrible  accusa 
tion. 

58 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"And  the  freak  abdominal?"  he  quizzed 
sharply.  "Was  it  you  who  threaded  that 
needle  for  me  so  blamed  slowly  —  and  calmly 
—  and  surely,  while  all  the  rest  of  us  were 
jumping  up  and  down  and  cursing  you  —  for 
no  brighter  reason  than  that  we  could  n't  have 
threaded  it  ourselves  if  we  'd  had  all  eternity 
before  us  and  —  all  creation  bleeding  to 
death?" 

"  Y-e-s,  sir,"  said  Rae  Malgregor. 

Quite  bluntly  the  Senior  Surgeon  reached 
out  and  lifted  one  of  her  hands  to  his  scowling 
professional  scrutiny. 

"Gad!"  he  attested.  "What  a  hand! 
You  're  a  wonder !  Under  proper  direction 
you're  a  wonder!  It  was  like  myself  work 
ing  with  twenty  fingers  and  no  thumbs!  I 
never  saw  anything  like  it !  " 

Almost  boyishly  the  embarrassed  flush 
mounted  to  his  cheeks  as  he  jerked  away  again. 
"  Excuse  me  for  not  recognizing  you,"  he 
apologized  gruffly.  "But  you  girls  all  look 
so  much  alike !  " 

As  though  the  eloquence  of  Heaven  itself 
had  suddenly  descended  upon  a  person  hitherto 
hopelessly  tongue-tied,  Rae  Malgregor  lifted 
59 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

an  utterly  transfigured  face  to  the  Senior  Sur 
geon's  grimly  astonished  gaze. 

"  Yes !  Yes,  sir ! "  she  cried  joyously. 
"That's  just  exactly  what  the  trouble  is! 
That 's  just  exactly  what  I  was  trying  to  ex 
press,  sir!  My  face  is  all  worn  out  trying  to 
*  look  alike  ' !  My  cheeks  are  almost  sprung 
with  artificial  smiles!  My  eyes  are  fairly 
bulging  with  unshed  tears !  My  nose  aches 
like  a  toothache  trying  never  to  turn  up  at  any 
thing!  I'm  smothered  with  the  discipline  of 
it !  I  'm  choked  with  the  affectation !  I  tell 
you  —  I  just  can't  breathe  through  a  trained 
nurse's  face  any  more !  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  'm 
sick  to  death  of  being  nothing  but  a  type.  I 
want  to  look  like  'myself!  I  want  to  see 
what  Life  could  do  to  a  silly  face  like  mine  — 
if  it  ever  got  a  chance!  When  other  women 
are  crying,  I  want  the  fun  of  crying!  When 
other  women  look  scared  to  death,  I  want  the 
fun  of  looking  scared  to  death !  "  Hysteric 
ally  again  with  shrewish  emphasis  she  began 
to  repeat :  "  I  won't  be  a  nurse !  I  tell  you, 
I  won't!  I  won't!" 

"  Pray  what  brought  you  so  suddenly  to  this 
60 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

remarkable  decision?  "  scoffed  the  Senior  Sur 
geon. 

"  A  letter  from  my  father,  sir,"  she  con 
fided  more  quietly.  "  A  letter  about  some 
dogs." 

"  Dogs?"  hooted  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 
A  trifle  speculatively  for  an  instant  she  glanced 
at  the  Superintendent's  face  and  then  back 
again  to  the  Senior  Surgeon's.  "Yes,  sir," 
she  repeated  with  increasing  confidence.  "  Up 
in  Nova  Scotia  my  father  raises  hunting-dogs. 
Oh,  no  special  fancy  kind,  sir,"  she  hastened  in 
all  honesty  to  explain.  "  Just  dogs,  you 
know, —  just  mixed  dogs, — pointers  with  curly 
tails, —  and  shaggy-coated  hounds, —  and 
brindled  spaniels,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing, — 
just  mongrels,  you  know,  but  very  clever ;  and 
people,  sir,  come  all  the  way  from  Boston  to 
buy  dogs  of  him,  and  once  a  man  came  way 
from  London  to  learn  the  secret  of  his 
training." 

"  Well,  what  is  the  secret  of  his  training?" 
quizzed  the  Senior  Surgeon  with  the  sudden 
eager  interest  of  a  sportsman.  "I  should 
61 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

think  it  would  be  pretty  hard,"  he  acknowl 
edged,  "  in  a  mixed  gang  like  that  to  decide 
just  which  particular  dog  was  suited  to  what 
particular  game ! " 

"  Yes,  that 's  just  it,  sir,"  beamed  the  White 
Linen  Nurse.  "  A  dog,  of  course,  will  chase 
anything  that  runs, —  that 's  just  dog, —  but 
when  a  dog  really  begins  to  care  for  what 
he  's  chasing  he  —  wags !  That 's  hunting ! 
Father  does  n't  calculate,  he  says,  on  training 
a  dog  on  anything  he  does  n't  wag  on !  " 

"Yes,  but  what's  that  got  to  do  with 
you  ? "  asked  the  Senior  Surgeon  a  bit  im 
patiently. 

With  ill-concealed  dismay  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  stood  staring  blankly  at  the  Senior  Sur 
geon's  gross  stupidity. 

"Why,  don't  you  see?"  she  faltered. 
"  I  Ve  been  chasing  this  nursing  job  three 
whole  years  now  —  and  there 's  no  wag  to 
it!" 

"Oh  Hell!"  said  the  Senior  Surgeon.  If 
he  had  n't  said  "  Oh  Hell ! "  he  would  have 
grinned.  And  it  had  n't  been  a  grinning  day, 
and  he  certainly  did  n't  intend  to  begin  grin 
ning  at  any  such  late  hour  as  that  in  the  after- 
62 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

noon.  With  his  dignity  once  reassured  he  re 
laxed  then  a  trifle.  "  For  Heaven's  sake, 
what  do  you  want  to  be  ?  "  he  asked  not  un 
kindly. 

With  an  abrupt  effort  at  self-control  Rae 
Malgregor  jerked  her  head  into  at  least  the 
outer  semblance  of  a  person  lost  in  almost 
fathomless  thought. 

"  Why  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know,  sir,"  she 
acknowledged  worriedly.  "  But  it  would  be 
a  great  pity,  I  suppose,  to  waste  all  the  grand 
training  that 's  gone  into  my  hands."  With 
sudden  conviction  her  limp  shoulders  stiffened 
a  trifle.  "  My  oldest  sister,"  she  stammered, 
"  bosses  the  laundry  in  one  of  the  big  hotels 
in  Halifax,  and  my  youngest  sister  teaches 
school  in  Moncton.  But  I  'm  so  strong,  you 
know,  and  I  like  to  move  things  round  so, — 
and  everything, —  maybe  —  I  could  get  a  posi 
tion  somewhere  as  general  housework  girl." 

With  a  roar  of  amusement  as  astonishing  to 
himself  as  to  his  listeners,  the  Senior  Sur 
geon's  chin  jerked  suddenly  upward. 

"  You  're  crazy  as  a  loon !  "  he  confided 
cordially.  "Great  Scott!  If  you  can  work 
up  a  condition  like  this  on  coffee, —  what 

63 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

would  you  do  on,"  he  hesitated  grimly, 
"  malted  milk  ?  "  As  unheralded  as  his  amuse 
ment,  gross  irritability  overtook  him  again. 
"  Will  —  you  —  stop  —  rattling  that  brown 
paper?  "  he  thundered  at  her. 

Innocently  as  a  child  she  rebuffed  the  ac 
cusation  and  ignored  the  temper. 

"But  I'm  not  rattling  it,  sir!"  she  pro 
tested.  "  I  'm  simply  trying  to  hide  what 's 
on  the  other  side  of  it." 

"What  is  on  the  other  side  of  it?"  de 
manded  the  Senior  Surgeon  bluntly. 

With  unquestioning  docility  the  girl  turned 
the  paper  around. 

From  behind  her  desk  the  austere  Superin 
tendent  twisted  her  neck  most  informally  to 
decipher  the  scrawling  hieroglyphics.  "  Don't 
—  Ever  —  Be  —  bumptious! "  she  read  forth 
jerkily  with  a  questioning,  incredulous  sort  of 
emphasis. 

"Don't  ever  be  bumptious?"  squinted  the 
Senior  Surgeon  perplexedly  through  his 
glasses. 

"  Yes,"  said  Rae  Malgregor  very  timidly. 
"  It 's  my  —  motto." 

"  Your  motto  ?  "  sniffed  the  Superintendent. 


"Don't   ever   be    bumptious?"    squinted   the    Senior   Surgeon 
perplexedly  through  his  glasses. 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

''  Your  motto  ? "  chuckled  the  Senior  Sur 
geon. 

''  Yes,  my  motto,"  repeated  Rae  Malgregor 
with  the  slightest  perceptible  tinge  of  resent 
ment.  "  And  it 's  a  perfectly  good  motto, 
too !  Only,  of  course,  it  has  n't  got  any  style 
to  it.  That 's  why  I  did  n't  want  the  girls  to 
see  it,"  she  confided  a  bit  drearily.  Then  pal 
pably  before  their  eyes  they  saw  her  spirit 
leap  into  ineffable  pride.  "  My  Father  gave 
it  to  me,"  she  announced  briskly.  "  And  my 
Father  said  that,  when  I  came  home  in  June, 
if  I  could  honestly  say  that  I  'd  never  once 
been  bumptious  —  all  my  three  years  here, — 
he'd  give  me  a  —  heifer!  And — " 

"Well  I  guess  you've  lost  your  heifer!" 
said  the  Senior  Surgeon  bluntly. 

"Lost  my  heifer?"  gasped  the  girl.  Big- 
eyed  and  incredulous  she  stood  for  an  instant 
staring  back  and  forth  from  the  Superintend 
ent's  face  to  the  Senior  Surgeon's.  "  You 
mean  ?  "  she  stammered,  "  you  mean  —  that 
I  've  —  been  —  bumptious  —  just  now  ?  You 
mean  —  that  after  all  these  years  of  — 
meachin'  meekness  —  I  've  lost  —  ?  " 

Plainly  even  to  the  Senior  Surgeon  and  the 

65 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Superintendent  the  bones  in  her  knees  weak 
ened  suddenly  like  knots  of  tissue  paper.  No 
power  on  earth  could  have  made  her  break 
discipline  by  taking  a  chair  while  the  Senior 
Surgeon  stood,  so  she  sank  limply  down  to 
the  floor  instead,  with  two  great  solemn  tears 
welling  slowly  through  the  fingers  with  which 
she  tried  vainly  to  cover  her  face. 

"  And  the  heifer  was  brown,  with  one  white 
ear;  it  was  awful  cunning,"  she  confided 
mumblingly.  "  And  it  ate  from  my  hand  — 
all  warm  and  sticky,  like  —  loving  sand 
paper."  There  was  no  protest  in  her  voice, 
nor  any  whine  of  complaint,  but  merely  the 
abject  submission  to  Fate  of  one  who  from 
earliest  infancy  had  seen  other  crops  blighted 
by  other  frosts.  Then  tremulously  with  the 
air  of  one  who,  just  as  a  matter  of  spiritual  tid 
iness,  would  purge  her  soul  of  all  sad  secrets, 
she  lifted  her  entrancing,  tear-flushed  face 
from  her  strong,  sturdy,  utterly  unemotional 
fingers  and  stared  with  amazing  blueness, 
amazing  blandness  into  the  Senior  Surgeon's 
scowling  scrutiny. 

"  And  I  'd  named  her  —  for  you !  "  she  said. 
"  I  'd  named  her  —  Patience  —  for  you !  " 
66 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Instantly  then  she  scrambled  to  her  knees  to 
try  and  assuage  by  some  miraculous  apology 
the  horrible  shock  which  she  read  in  th^ 
Senior  Surgeon's  face. 

"  Oh,  of  course,  sir,  I  know  it  is  n't  scien 
tific!"  she  pleaded  desperately.  "Oh,  of 
course,  sir,  I  know  it  is  n't  scientific  at  all ! 
But  up  where  I  live,  you  know,  instead  of 
praying  for  anybody,  we  —  we  name  a  young 
animal  —  for  the  virtue  that  that  person  — 
seems  to  need  the  most.  And  if  you  tend  the 
young  animal  carefully  —  and  train  it  right 
— !  Why  —  it's  just  a  superstition,  of 
course,  but  —  Oh,  sir ! "  she  floundered 
hopelessly,  "  the  virtue  you  needed  most  in 
your  business  was  what  I  meant !  Oh,  really, 
sir,  I  never  thought  of  criticizing  your  charac 
ter!" 

GrufHy  the  Senior  Surgeon  laughed.  Em 
barrassment  was  in  the  laugh,  and  anger,  and 
a  fierce,  fiery  sort  of  resentment  against  both 
the  embarrassment  and  the  anger, —  but  no 
possible  trace  of  amusement.  Impatiently  he 
glanced  up  at  the  fast  speeding  clock. 

"  Good  Lord !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  'm  an 
hour  late  now !  "  Scowling  like  a  pirate  he 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

clicked  the  cover  of  his  watch  open  and  shut 
for  an  uncertain  instant.  Then  suddenly  he 
laughed  again,  and  there  was  nothing  whatso 
ever  in  his  laugh  this  time  except  just  amuse 
ment. 

"  See  here,  Miss  —  Bossy  Tamer,"  he  said. 
"  If  the  Superintendent  is  willing,  go  get  your 
hat  and  coat,  and  I  '11  take  you  out  on  that 
meningitis  case  with  me.  It 's  a  thirty  mile 
run  if  it 's  a  block,  and  I  guess  if  you  sit  on 
the  front  seat  it  will  blow  the  cobwebs  out  of 
your  brain  —  if  anything  will,"  he  finished  not 
unkindly. 

Like  a  white  hen  sensing  the  approach  of 
some  utterly  unseen  danger  the  Superintendent 
seemed  to  bristle  suddenly  in  every  direc 
tion. 

"  It 's  a  bit  —  irregular,"  she  protested  in 
her  most  even  tone. 

"  Bah !  So  are  some  of  the  most  useful  of 
the  French  verbs !  "  snapped  the  Senior  Sur 
geon.  In  the  midst  of  authority  his  voice 
could  be  inestimably  soft  and  reassuring,  but 
sometimes  on  the  brink  of  asserting  said  au 
thority  he  had  a  tone  that  was  distinctly  un 
pleasant. 

68 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  conceded  the  Superintend 
ent  with  some  waspishness. 

Hazily  for  an  instant  Rae  Malgregor  stood 
staring  into  the  Superintendent's  uncordial 
face.  "  I'd  —  I'd  apologize,"  she  faltered, 
"  but  I  —  don't  even  know  what  I  said.  It 
just  blew  up !  " 

Perfectly  coldly  and  perfectly  civilly  thg 
Superintendent  received  the  overture.  "  It 
was  quite  evident,  Miss  Malgregor,  that  you 
were  not  altogether  responsible  at  the  mo 
ment,"  she  conceded  in  common  justice. 

Heavily  then,  like  a  person  walking  in  her 
sleep  the  girl  trailed  out  of  the  room  to  get 
her  coat  and  hat. 

Slamming  one  desk-drawrer  after  another 
the  Superintendent  drowned  the  sluggish 
sound  of  her  retreating  footsteps. 

"There  goes  my  best  nurse!"  she  said 
grimly.  "  My  very  best  nurse !  Oh  no,  not 
the  most  brilliant  one,  I  did  n't  mean  that,  but 
the  most  reliable!  The  most  nearly  per 
fect  human  machine  that  it  has  ever  been  my 
privilege  to  see  turned  ot;t, —  the  one  girl  that 
week  in,  week  out,  month  after  month,  and 
year  after  year,  has  always  done  what  she  's 
69 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

told, —  when  she  was  told, —  and  the  exact 
way  she  Was  told, —  without  questioning  any 
thing,  without  protesting  anything,  without 
supplementing  anything  with  some  disastrous 
original  conviction  of  her  own  —  and  look  at 
her  now! "  Tragically  the  Superintendent 
rubbed  her  hand  across  her  worried  brow. 
"  Coffee,  you  said  it  was?  "  she  asked  skeptic 
ally.  "  Are  there  any  special  antidotes  for 
coffee?" 

With  a  queer  little  quirk  to  his  mouth  the 
gruff  Senior  Surgeon  jerked  his  glance  back 
from  the  open  window  where  with  the  gleam 
of  a  slim  torn-boyish  ankle  the  frisky  young 
Spring  went  scurrying  through  the  tree-tops. 

"  What 's  that  you  asked  ?  "  he  quizzed 
sharply.  "  Any  antidotes  for  coffee  ?  Yes. 
Dozens  of  them.  But  none  for  Spring." 

"Spring?"  sniffed  the  Superintendent.  A 
little  shiveringly  she  reached  out  and  gathered 
a  white  knitted  shawl  around  her  shoulders. 
"Spring?  I  don't  see  what  Spring's  got  to 
do  with  Rae  Malgregor  or  any  other  young 
outlaw  in  my  graduating  class.  If  graduation 
came  in  November  it  would  be  just  the  same ! 
They  're  a  set  of  ingrates,  every  one  of  them !  " 
70 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Vehemently  she  turned  aside  to  her  card-index 
of  names  and  slapped  the  cards  through  one 
by  one  without  finding  one  single  soothing  ex 
ception.  "Yes,  sir,  a  set  of  ingrates!"  she 
repeated  accusingly.  "  Spend  your  life  try 
ing  to  teach  them  what  to  do  and  how  to  do  it ! 
Cram  ideas  into  those  that  have  n't  got  any, 
and  yank  ideas  out  of  those  who  have  got  too 
many!  Refine  them,  toughen  them,  scolcj 
them,  coax  them,  everlastingly  drill  and  dis 
cipline  them!  And  then,  just  as  you  get'them 
to  a  place  where  they  move  like  clock-work, 
and  you  actually  believe  you  can  trust  them, 
then  graduation  day  comes  round,  and  they 
think  they  're  all  safe, —  and  every  single  indi 
vidual  member  of  the  class  breaks  out  and 
runs  a-muck  with  the  one  dare-devil  deed 
she  's  been  itching  to  do  every  day  the  past 
three  years !  Why  this  very  morning  I  caught 
the  President  of  the  Senior  Class  with  a  break 
fast  tray  in  her  hands  —  stealing  the  cherry 
out  of  her  patient's  grape  fruit.  And  three 
of  the  girls  reported  for  duty  as  bold  as  brass 
with  their  hair  frizzed  tight  as  a  nigger  doll's. 
And  the  girl  who  's  going  into  a  convent  next 
week  was  trying  on  the  laundryman's  derby 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

hat  as  I  came  up  from  lunch.  And  now, 
now — "  the  Superintendent's  voice  went  sud 
denly  a  little  hoarse,  "  and  now  —  here  's  Miss 
Malgregor  —  intriguing  —  to  get  an  auto 
mobile  ride  with  —  you!" 

"Eh?"  cried  the  Senior  Surgeon  with  a 
jump.  "What?  Is  this  an  Insane  Asylum? 
Is  it  a  Nervine?"  Madly  he  started  for  the 
door.  "  Order  a  ton  of  bromides!  "  he  called 
back  over  his  shoulder.  "  Order  a  car-load  of 
them!  Saturate  the  whole  place  with  them! 
Drown  the  whole  damned  place !  " 

Half  way  down  the  lower  hall,  all  his  nerves 
on  edge,  all  his  unwonted  boyish  impulsiveness 
quenched  noxiously  like  a  candle  flame,  he  met 
and  passed  Rae  Malgregor  without  a  sign  of 
recognition. 

"  God !  How  I  hate  women !  "  he  kept 
mumbling  to  himself  as  he  struggled  clumsily 
all  alone  into  the  torn  sleeve  lining  of  his 
thousand  dollar  mink  coat. 


72 


CHAPTER  IV 

LIKE  a  train-traveler  coming  out  of  a 
long,  smoky,  smothery  tunnel  into  the 
clean-tasting  light,  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
came  out  of  the  prudish-smelling  hospital  into 
the  riotous  mud-and-posie  promise  of  the 
young  April  afternoon. 

The  God  of  Hysteria  had  certainly  not  de 
serted  her!  In  all  the  full  effervescent  reac 
tion  of  her  brainstorm, —  fairly  bubbling  with 
dimples,  fairly  foaming  with  curls, —  light- 
footed,  light-hearted,  most  ecstatically  light-* 
headed,  she  tripped  down  into  the  sunshine  as 
though  the  great,  harsh,  granite  steps  that 
marked  her  descent  were  nothing  more  nor 
less  than  a  gigantic,  old,  horny-fingered  hand 
passing  her  blithely  out  to  some  deliciously 
unknown  Lilliputian  adventure. 

As  she  pranced  across  the  soggy  April  side 
walk  to  what  she  supposed  was  the  Senior 
Surgeon's  perfectly  empty  automobile  she  be 
came  conscious  suddenly  that  the  rear  seat  of 
the  car  was  already  occupied. 

73 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Out  from  an  unseasonable  snuggle  of  sable 
furs  and  flaming  red  hair  a  small,  peevish  face 
peered  forth  at  her  with  frank  curiosity. 

"Why,  hello!"  beamed  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "  Who  are  you  ?  " 

With  unmistakable  hostility  the  haughty 
little  face  retreated  into  its  furs  and  its  red 
hair.  "Hush!"  commanded  a  shrill  child 
ish  voice.  "  Hush,  I  say !  I  'm  a  cripple  - 
and  very  bad-tempered.  Don't  speak  to 
me!" 

"  Oh,  my  Glory !  "  gasped  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "Oh  my  Glory,  Glory,  Glory!" 
Without  any  warning  whatsoever  she  felt  sud 
denly  like  Nothing-At-All,  rigged  out  in  an 
exceedingly  shabby  old  ulster  and  an  exces 
sively  homely  black  slouch  hat.  In  a  desperate 
attempt  at  tangible  torn-boyish  nonchalance  she 
tossed  her  head  and  thrust  her  hands  down 
deep  into  her  big  ulster  pockets.  That  the 
bleak  hat  reflected  no  decent  featherish  con 
sciousness  of  being  tossed,  that  the  big  thread 
bare  pockets  had  no  bottoms  to  them,  merely 
completed  her  startled  sense  of  having  been  in 
some  way  blotted  right  out  of  existence. 

Behind  her  back  the  Senior  Surgeon's  huge 
74 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

fur-coated  approach  dawned  blissfully  like  the 
thud  of  a  rescue  party. 

But  if  the  Senior  Surgeon's  blunt,  whole 
some  invitation  to  ride  had  been  perfectly 
sweet  when  he  prescribed  it  for  her  in  the 
Superintendent's  office,  the  invitation  had  cer 
tainly  soured  most  amazingly  in  the  succeed^ 
ing  ten  minutes.  Abruptly  now,  without  any 
greeting,  he  reached  out  and  opened  the  rear 
door  of  the  car,  and  nodded  curtly  for  her  to 
enter  there. 

Instantly  across  the  face  of  the  little  crip 
pled  girl  already  ensconced  in  the  tonneau  a 
single  flash  of  light  went  zig-zagging  crook 
edly  from  brow  to  chin, —  and  was  gone  again. 
"Hello,  Fat  Father!"  piped  the  shrill  little 
voice.  "Hello,— Fat  Father!"  Yet  so 
subtly  was  the  phrase  mouthed,  to  save  your 
soul  you  could  not  have  proved  just  where  the 
greeting  ended  and  the  taunt  began. 

There  was  nothing  subtle  however  about  the 
way  in  which  the  Senior  Surgeon's  hand  shot 
out  and  slammed  the  tonneau  door  bang-bang 
again  on  its  original  passenger.  His  face  was 
crimson  with  anger.  Brusquely  he  pointed  to 
the  front  seat. 

75 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  You  may  sit  in  there,  with  me,  Miss  Mal- 
gregor !  "  he  thundered. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  crooned  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Meek  as  an  oiled  machine  she  scuttled  to 
her  appointed  place.  Once  more  in  smothered 
giggle  and  unprotesting  acquiescence  she 
sensed  the  resumption  of  eternal  discipline. 
Already  in  just  this  trice  of  time  she  felt  her 
rampant  young  mouth  resettle  tamely  into  lines 
of  smug,  determinate  serenity.  Already 
across  her  idle  lap  she  felt  her  clasped  fingers 
begin  to  frost  and  tingle  again  like  a  cheer 
fully  non-concerned  bunch  of  live  wires  wait 
ing  the  one  authoritative  signal  to  connect 
somebody, —  anybody, —  with  this  world  or 
the  next.  Already  the  facile  tip  of  her  tongue 
seemed  fairly  loaded  and  cocked  like  a  re 
volver  with  all  the  approximate  "  Yes,  sirs," 
"  No,  sirs,"  that  she  thought  she  should  prob 
ably  need. 

But  the  only  immediate  remarks  that  the 
Senior  Surgeon  addressed  to  any  one  were  ad 
dressed  distinctly  to  the  crank  of  his  auto 
mobile. 

"  Damn  having  a  chauffeur  who  gets  drunk 
the  one  day  of  the  year  when  you  need  him 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

most !  "  he  muttered  under  his  breath,  as  with 
the  same  exquisitely  sensitive  fingers  that 
could  have  dissected  like  a  caress  the  nervous 
system  of  a  humming  bird,  or  re-set  unbruis- 
ingly  the  broken  wing  of  a  butterfly,  he  hurled 
his  hundred  and  eighty  pounds  of  infuriate 
brute-strength  against  the  calm,  chronic,  me 
chanical  stubbornness  of  that  auto  crank. 
"  Damn ! "  he  swore  on  the  upward  pull. 
"  Damn ! "  he  gasped  on  the  downward 
push.  "  Damn ! "  he  cursed  and  sputtered 
and  spluttered.  Purple  with  effort,  bulging- 
eyed  with  strain,  reeking  with  sweat,  his 
frenzied  outburst  would  have  terrorized  the 
entire  hospital  staff. 

With  an  odd  little  twinge  of  homesickness, 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  slid  cautiously  out 
to  the  edge  of  her  seat  so  that  she  might  watch 
the  struggle  better.  For  thus,  with  dripping 
foreheads  and  knotted  neck-muscles  and  break 
ing  backs  and  rankly  tempestuous  language, 
did  the  untutored  men- folk  of  her  own  beloved 
home-land  hurl  their  great  strength  against 
bulls  and  boulders  and  refractory  forest  trees. 
Very  startlingly  as  she  watched,  a  brand  new 
thought  went  zig-zagging  through  her  con- 
77 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

sciousness.  Was  it  possible, —  was  it  even  so 
much  as  remotely  possible  —  that  the  great 
Senior  Surgeon, —  the  great,  wonderful,  alto 
gether  formidable,  altogether  unapproachable 
Senior  Surgeon, —  was  just  a  —  was  just  a 
— •  ?  Stripped  ruthlessly  of  all  his  social 
superiority, —  of  all  his  professional  halo, —  of 
all  his  scientific  achievement,  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  stood  suddenly  forth  before  her  —  a 
mere  man  —  just  like  other  men!  Just  ex 
actly  like  other  men?  Like  the  sick  drug- 
clerk?  Like  the  new-born  millionaire  baby? 
Like  the  doddering  old  Dutch  gaffer?  The 
very  delicacy  of  such  a  thought  drove  the 
blood  panic-stricken  from  her  face.  It  was 
the  indelicacy  of-the  thought  that  brought  the 
blood  surging  back  again  to  brow,  to  cheeks, 
to  lips,  even  to  the  tips  of  her  ears. 

Glancing  up  casually  from  the  roar  and 
rumble  of  his  abruptly  repentant  engine  the 
Senior  Surgeon  swore  once  more  under  his 
breath  to  think  that  any  female  sitting  per 
fectly  idle  and  non-concerned  in  a  seven  thou 
sand  dollar  car  should  have  the  nerve  to  flaunt 
such  a  furiously  strenuous  color. 

Bristling  with  resentment  and  mink  furs  he 

78 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

strode  around  the  fender  and  stumbled  with 
increasing  irritation  across  the  White  Linen 
Nurse's  knees  to  his  seat.  Just  for  an  instant 
his  famous  fingers  seemed  to  flash  with  ap 
parent  inconsequence  towards  one  bit  of 
mechanism  and  another.  Then  like  a  huge, 
portentous  pill  floated  on  smoothest  syrup  the 
car  slid  down  the  yawning  street  into  the  con 
gested  city. 

Altogether  monotonously  in  terms  of  pain 
and  dirt  and  drug  and  disease  the  city  wafted 
itself  in  and  out  of  the  White  Linen  Nurse's 
well-grooved  consciousness.  From  every 
filthy  street  corner  sodden  age  or  starved  baby 
hood  reached  out  its  fluttering  pulse  to  her. 
Then,  suddenly  sweet  as  a  draught  through  a 
fever-tainted  room,  the  squalid  city  freshened 
into  jocund,  luxuriant  suburbs  with  rollicking 
tennis  courts,  and  flaming  yellow  forsythia 
blossoms,  and  green  velvet  lawns  prematurely 
posied  with  pale  exotic  hyacinths  and  great 
scarlet  splotches  of  lusty  tulips. 

Beyond  this  hectic  horticultural  outburst  the 
leisurely  Spring  faded  out  again  into  April's 
naturally  sallow  colors. 

Glossy  and  black  as  an  endless  typewriter 
79 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

ribbon,  the  narrow,  tense  State  Road  seemed 
to  wind  itself  everlastingly  in  —  and  in  —  and 
in  —  on  some  hidden  spool  of  the  car's  myste 
rious  mechanism.  Clickety-Click-Click-Clack, 

—  faster  than  any  human  mind  could  think, — 
faster  than  any  human  hand  could  finger, — 
hurtling  up  hazardous  hills  of  thought, —  slid 
ing   down   facile   valleys   of    fancy, —  roaring 
with  emphasis, —  shrieking  with   punctuation, 

—  the    great    car    yielded    itself    perforce    to 
Fate's  dictation. 

Robbed  successively  of  the  city's  humani 
tarian  pang,  of  the  suburb's  esthetic  pleasure, 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  found  herself  precipi 
tated  suddenly  into  a  mere  blur  of  sight,  a 
mere  chaos  of  sound.  In  whizzing  speed  and 
crashing  breeze, —  houses  —  fences  —  mead 
ows  —  people  —  slapped  across  her  eyeballs 
like  pictures  on  a  fan.  On  and  on  and  on 
through  kaleidoscopic  yellows  and  rushing 
grays  the  great  car  sped,  a  purely  mechanical 
factor  in  a  purely  mechanical  landscape. 

Rigid  with  concentration  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  stared  like  a  dead  man  into  the  intrepid, 
on-coming  road. 

Intermittently  from  her  green,  plushy  lap- 
go 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

robes  the  little  crippled  girl  struggled  to  her 
feet,  and  sprawling  clumsily  across  whose- 
ever  shoulder  suited  her  best,  raised  a  brazenly 
innocent  voice,  deliberately  flatted,  in  a  shrill 
and  maddeningly  repetitive  chant  of  her  own 
making,  to  the  effect  that 

All  the  birds   were  there 

With  yellow  feathers  instead  of  hair, 

And  bumble  bees  crocheted  in  the  trees — 

And  bumble  bees  crocheted  in  the  trees — 

And   all   the   birds    were   there — 

And  —  And  — 

Intermittently  from  the  front  seat  the  Senior 
Surgeon's  wooden  face  relaxed  to  the  extent 
of  a  grim  mouth  twisting  distractedly  side 
ways  in  one  furious  bellow. 

"  Will  —  you  —  stop  —  your  —  noise  — 
and  —  go  —  back  —  to  —  your  —  seat !  " 

Nothing  else  happened  at  all  until  at  last, 
out  of  unbroken  stretches  of  winter-staled 
stubble,  a  high,  formal  hemlock  hedge  and  a 
neat,  pebbled  driveway  proclaimed  the  Senior 
Surgeon's  ultimate  destination. 

Cautiously  now,  with  an  almost  tender  skill, 
the  big  car  circled  a  tiny,  venturesome  clump 
of  highway  violets  and  crept  through  a  pranc- 
81 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

ing,  leaping  fluff  of  yellow  collie  dogs  to  the 
door  of  the  big  stone  house. 

Instantly  from  inestimable  resources  a 
liveried  serving  man  appeared  to  help  the  Sur 
geon  from  his  car;  another,  to  take  the  Sur 
geon's  coat ;  another,  to  carry  his  bag. 

Lingering  for  an  instant  to  stretch  his 
muscles  and  shake  his  great  shoulders,  the 
Senior  Surgeon  breathed  into  his  cramped 
lungs  a  friendly  impulse  as  well  as  a  scent  of 
budding  cherry  trees. 

"  You  may  come  in  with  me,  if  you  want 
to,  Miss  Malgregor,"  he  conceded.  "  It 's  an 
extraordinary  case.  You  will  hardly  see  an 
other  one  like  it."  Palpably  he  lowered  his 
already  almost  indistinguishable  voice.  "  The 
boy  is  young,"  he  confided,  "  about  your  age, 
I  should  guess,  a  college  foot-ball  hero,  the 
most  superbly  perfect  specimen  of  young  man 
hood  it  has  ever  been  my  privilege  to  behold. 
It  will  be  a  long  case.  They  have  two  nurses 
already,  but  would  like  another.  The  work 
ought  not  to  be  hard.  Now  if  they  should 
happen  to  —  fancy  you!"  In  speechless  ex 
pressiveness  his  eyes  swept  estimatingly  over 
sun-parlors,  stables,  garages,  Italian  gardens, 
82 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

rapturous  blue-shadowed  mountain  views  — 
every  last  intimate  detail  of  the  mansion's 
wonderful  equipment. 

Like  a  drowning  man  feeling  his  last  float 
ing  spar  wrenched  away  from  him,  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  dug  her  finger-nails  frantically 
into  every  reachable  wrinkle  and  crevice  of  the 
heavily  upholstered  seat. 

"  Oh,  but  sir,  I  don't  want  to  go  in !  "  she 
protested  passionately.  "  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  'm 
quite  done  with  all  that  sort  of  thing!  It 
would  break  my  heart!  It  would!  Oh,  sir, 
this  worrying  about  people  for  whom  you  've 
got  no  affection, —  it 's  like  sledding  without 
any  snow !  It  grits  right  down  on  your  naked 
nerves.  It  — " 

Before  the  Senior  Surgeon's  glowering,  in 
credulous  stare  her  heart  began  to  plunge  and 
pound  again,  but  it  plunged  and  pounded  no 
harder,  she  realized  suddenly,  than  when  in 
the  calm,  white  hospital  precincts  she  was 
obliged  to  pass  his  terrifying  presence  in  the* 
corridor  and  murmur  an  inaudible  "  Good 
Morning  "  or  "  Good  Evening/'  "  After  all, 
he  's  nothing  but  a  man  —  nothing  but  a  man 
-  nothing  but  a  mere  —  ordinary  —  two- 

83 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

legged  man,"  she  reasoned  over  and  over  to 
herself.  With  a  really  desperate  effort  she 
smoothed  her  frightened  face  into  an  expres 
sion  of  utter  guilelessness  and  peace  and  smiled 
unflinchingly  right  into  the  Senior  Surgeon's 
rousing  anger  as  she  had  once  seen  an  animal- 
trainer  smile  into  the  snarl  of  a  crouching 
tiger. 

'*  Th — ank  you  very  much ! "  she  said. 
"  But  I  think  I  won't  go  in,  sir, —  thank  you ! 
My  —  my  face  is  still  pretty  tired !  " 

"  Idiot ! "  snapped  the  Senior  Surgeon 
as  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  started  up  the 
steps. 

From  the  green  plushy  robes  on  the  back 
seat  the  White  Linen  Nurse  could  have  sworn 
that  she  heard  a  sharply  ejaculated,  maliciously 
joyful  "  Ha!  "  piped  out.  But  when  both  she 
and  the  Senior  Surgeon  turned  sharply  round 
to  make  sure,  the  Little  Crippled  Girl,  in  ap 
parently  complete  absorption,  sat  amiably  ex 
tracting  tuft  after  tuft  of  fur  from  the  thumb 
of  one  big  sable  glove,  to  the  rumbling,  sing 
song  monotone  of  "  He  loves  me  —  Loves  me 
not  —  Loves  me  —  Loves  me  not." 

Bristling  with  unutterable  contempt  for  all 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

femininity,  the  Senior  Surgeon  proceeded  up 
the  steps  between  two  solemn-faced  lackeys. 

"Father!"    wailed    a    feeble    little    voice. 
"  Father !  "     There  was  no   shrillness   in   the 
tone  now,  nor  malice,   nor  any  mischievous 
thing, —  just  desolation,  the  impulsive,  panic- 
stricken  desolation  of  a  little  child  left  sud 
denly  alone  with  a  stranger.     "  Father!  "  the 
frightened   voice    ventured    forth    a    tiny    bit 
louder.     But  the  unheeding   Senior   Surgeon 
had     already     reached     the     piazza.     "  Fat 
Father!"   screamed   the   little   voice.     Barbed 
now    like    a    shark-hook    the    phrase    ripped 
through  the  Senior  Surgeon's  dormant  sensi 
bilities.     As    one    fairly    yanked    out    of    his 
thoughts  he  whirled  around  in  his  tracks. 
"  What  do  you  want?  "  he  thundered. 
Helplessly  the  little  girl  sat  staring  from  a 
lackey's    ill-concealed    grin    to    her    Father's 
smoldering   fury.     Quite  palpably   she   began 
to  swallow  with  considerable  difficulty.     Then 
quick  as  a  flash  a  diminutively  crafty  smile 
crooked  across  one  corner  of  her  mouth. 

"  Father?  "  she  improvised  dulcetly.  "  Fa 
ther?  May  — may  I  — sit-in  the  White 
Linen  Nurse's  lap?" 

85 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Just  for  an  instant  the  Senior  Surgeon's 
narrowing  eyes  probed  mercilessly  into  the 
reekingly  false  little  smile.  Then  altogether 
brutally  he  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  don't  care  where  in  blazes  you  sit!  "  he 
muttered,  and  went  on  into  the  house. 

With  an  air  of  unalterable  finality  the  mas 
sive  oak  door  closed  after  him.  In  the  res 
onant  click  of  its  latch  the  great  wrought-iron 
lock  seemed  to  smack  its  lips  with  ineffable 
satisfaction. 

Wringing  suddenly  round  with  a  whish  of 
starched  skirts  the  White  Linen  Nurse  knelt 
up  in  her  seat  and  grinned  at  the  Little 
Crippled  Girl. 

"  '  Ha  ' —  yourself !  "  she  said. 

Against  all  possible  expectancy  the  Little 
Crippled  Girl  burst  out  laughing.  The  laugh 
was  wild,  ecstatic,  extravagantly  boisterous, 
yet  awkward  withal,  and  indescribably 
bumpy,  like  the  first  flight  of  a  cage-cramped 
bird. 

Quite  abruptly  the  White  Linen  Nurse  sat 

down  again,   and  commenced  nervously  with 

the  wrist  of  her  chamois  glove  to  polish  the 

slightly  tarnished   brass  lamp   at  her  elbow. 

86 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Equally  abruptly  after  a  minute  she  stopped 
polishing  and  looked  back  at  the  Little  Crip 
pled  Girl. 

"  Would  —  you  —  like  —  to  sit  in  my  lap  ?  " 
she  queried  conscientiously. 

Insolent  with  astonishment  the  Little  Girl 
parried  the  question.  "  Why  in  blazes  - 
should  I  want  to  sit  in  your  lap?  "  she  quizzed 
harshly.  Every  accent  of  her  voice,  every 
remotest  intonation,  was  like  the  Senior  Sur 
geon's  at  his  worst.  The  suddenly  forked 
eyebrow,  the  snarling  twitch  of  the  upper  lip, 
turned  the  whole  delicate  little  face  into  a 
grotesque  but  desperately  unconscious  carica 
ture  of  the  grim- jawed  father. 

As  though  the  father  himself  had  snubbed 
her  for  some  unimaginable  familiarity  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  winced  back  in  hopeless 
confusion.  Just  for  sheer  shock,  short-cir 
cuited  with  fatigue,  a  big  tear  rolled  slowly 
down  one  pink  cheek. 

Instantly  to  the  edge  of  her  seat  the  Little 
Girl  jerked  herself  forward.  "  Don't  cry, 
Pretty!"  she  whispered.  "Don't  cry!  It's 
my  legs.  I  've  got  fat  iron  braces  on  my  legs. 
And  people  don't  like  to  hold  me !  " 

87 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Half  the  professional  smile  came  flashing 
back  to  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  mouth. 

"  Oh,  I  just  adore  holding  people  with  iron 
braces  on  their  legs,"  she  affirmed,  and,  lean 
ing  over  the  back  of  the  seat,  proceeded  with 
absolutely    perfect    mechanical    tenderness    to 
gather  the  poor,   puny,  surprised  little  body 
into   her   own   strong,    shapely   arms.     Then 
dutifully  snuggling  her  shoulder  to  meet  the 
stubborn  little  shoulder  that  refused  to  snuggle, 
to  it,  and  dutifully  easing  her  knees  to  suit  the 
stubborn  little  knees  that  refused  to  be  eased, 
she  settled  down  resignedly  in  her  seat  again 
to  await  the  return  of  the   Senior   Surgeon. 
"There!     There!     There!"  she  began  quite 
instinctively  to  croon  and  pat. 

"Don't  say  '  There!  There!'  wailed 
the  Little  Girl  peevishly.  Her  body  was  sud 
denly  stiff  as  a  ram-rod.  "  Don't  say  '  There ! 
There! '  If  you  've  got  to  make  any  noise  at 
all,  say  'Here!  Here!'" 

"  Here !  Here !  "  droned  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "  Here !  Here !  Here !  Here !  " 
On  and  on  and  interminably  on,  "Here! 
Here!  Here!  Here!" 

At  the  end  of  about  the  three-hundred-and- 
88 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

forty-seventh  "  Here !  "  the  Little  Girl's  body 
relaxed,  and  she  reached  up  two  fragile  fingers 
to  close  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  mouth. 
"  There !  That  will  do,"  she  sighed  content 
edly.  "  I  feel  better  now.  Father  does  tire 


me  so." 


"  Father  tires  —  you?"  gasped  the  White 
Linen  Nurse.  The  giggle  that  followed  the 
gasp  was  not  in  the  remotest  degree  profes 
sional.  "  Father  tires  you? "  she  repeated 
accusingly.  "Why,  you  silly  Little  Girl! 
Can't  you  see  it 's  you  that  makes  Father  so 
everlastingly  tired  ? "  Impulsively  with  her 
one  free  hand  she  turned  the  Little  Girl's  list 
less  face  to  the  light.  "  What  makes  you 
call  your  nice  father  '  Fat  Father '  ? "  she 
asked  with  real  curiosity.  "  What  makes 
you?  He  isn't  fat  at  all.  He's  just  big. 
Why,  what  ever  possesses  you  to  call  him  '  Fat 
Father/  I  say?  Can't  you  see  how  mad  it 
makes  him?  " 

Why,  of  course  it  made  him  mad ! "  said 
the  Little  Girl  with  plainly  reviving  interest. 
Thrilled  with  astonishment  at  the  White  Linen 
Nurse's  apparent  stupidity  she  straightened 
up  perkily  with  inordinately  sparkling  eyes. 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Why,  of  course  it  makes  him  mad !  "  she  ex 
plained  briskly.  "  That 's  why  I  do  it !  Why, 
my  Parpa  —  never  even  looks  at  me  —  unless 
I  make  him  mad !  " 

"S— sh!"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 
"  Why,  you  must  n't  ever  say  a  thing  like  that ! 
Why,  your  Marma  would  n't  like  you  to  say  a 
thing  like  that !  " 

Jerking  bumpily  back  against  the  White 
Linen  Nurse's  unprepared  shoulder  the  Little 
Girl  prodded  a  pallid  finger-tip  into  the  White 
Linen  Nurse's  vivid  cheek.  "  Silly  —  Pink 
and  White  — Nursie!"  she  chuckled,  "Don't 
you  know  there  isn't  any  Marma?"  Cack 
ling  with  delight  over  her  own  superior  knowl 
edge  she  folded  her  little  arms  and  began  to 
rock  herself  convulsively  to  and  fro. 

"Why,  stop!"  cried  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "Now  you  stop!  Why,  you  wicked 
little  creature  laughing  like  that  about  your 
poor  dead  mother !  Why,  just  think  how  bad 
it  would  make  your  poor  Parpa  feel !  " 

With  instant  sobriety  the  Little  Girl  stopped 
rocking,  and  stared  perplexedly  into  the  White 
Linen  Nurse's  shocked  eyes.     Her  own  little 
face  was  all  wrinkled  up  with  earnestness. 
90 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  But  the  Parpa  —  did  n't  like  the  Marma !  " 
she  explained  painstakingly.  "  The  Parpa  — 
never  liked  the  Marma !  That 's  why  he 
does  n't  like  me !  I  heard  Cook  telling  the  Ice 
Man  once  when  I  was  n't  more  than  ten  min 
utes  old!" 

Desperately  with  one  straining  hand  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  stretched  her  fingers  across 
the  Little  Girl's  babbling  mouth.  Equally 
desperately,  with  the  other  hand,  she  sought 
to  divert  the  Little  Girl's  mind  by  pushing  the 
fur  cap  back  from  her  frizzly  red  hair,  and 
loosening  her  sumptuous  coat,  and  jerking 
down  vainly  across  two  painfully  obtrusive 
white  ruffles,  the  awkwardly  short,  hideously 
bright  little  purple  dress. 

"  I  think  your  cap  is  too  hot,"  she  began 
casually,  and  then  proceeded  with  increasing 
vivacity  and  conviction  to  the  objects  that 
worried  her  most.  "  And  those  —  those  ruf 
fles,"  she  protested,  "they  don't  look  a  bit 
nice  being  so  long!  "  Resentfully  she  rubbed 
an  edge  of  the  purple  dress  between  her 
fingers.  "  And  a  little  girl  like  you, —  with 
such  bright  red  hair, —  oughtn't  to  wear  — 
purple !  "  she  admonished  with  real  concern. 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Now  whites  and  blues  —  and  little  soft 
pussy-cat  grays  — 

Mumblingly  through  her  finger-muzzled 
mouth  the  Little  Girl  burst  into  explanations 
again. 

"  Oh,  but  when  I  wear  gray,"  she  persisted, 
"  the  Parpa  —  never  sees  me !  But  when  I 
wear  purple  he  cares, —  he  cares  —  most  aw 
fully!"  she  boasted  with  a  bitter  sort  of 
triumph.  "Why  when  I  wear  purple  and 
frizz  my  hair  hard  enough, —  no  matter  who  's 
there,  or  anything, —  he  '11  stop  right  off  short 
in  the  middle  of  whatever  he  's  doing  —  and 
rear  right  up  so  perfectly  beautiful  and  mad 
and  glorious  —  and  holler  right  out  '  For 
Heaven's  sake,  take  that  colored  Sunday  sup 
plement  away ! ' 

'''  Your  Father 's  nervous,"  suggested  the 
White  Linen  Nurse. 

Almost  tenderly  the  Little  Girl  reached  up 
and  drew  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  ear  close 
down  to  her  own  snuggling  lips. 

"  Damned  nervous !  "  she  confided  laconi 
cally. 

Quite  against  all  intention  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  giggled.  Floundering  to  recover  her 
92 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

dignity  she  plunged  into  a  new  error.  "  Poor 
little  dev — ,"  she  began. 

"  Yes,"  sighed  the  Little  Girl  complacently. 
"  That 's  just  what  the  Parpa  calls  me." 
Fervidly  she  clasped  her  little  hands  together. 
"  Yes,  if  I  can  only  make  him  mad  enough 
daytimes,"  she  asserted,  "  then  at  night  when 
he  thinks  I  'm  all  asleep  he  comes  and  stands 
by  my  cribby-house  like  a  great  black  shadow- 
bear  and  shakes  and  shakes  his  most  beautiful 
head  and  says,  '  Poor  little  devil  —  poor  little 
devil.'  Oh,  if  I  can  only  make  him  mad 
enough  daytimes !  "  she  cried  out  ecstatically. 

"Why,  you  naughty  little  thing!"  scolded 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  with  an  unmistakable 
catch  in  her  voice.  "  Why,  you  —  naughty  — 
naughty  —  little  thing !  " 

Like  the  brush  of  a  butterfly's  wing  the 
child's  hand  grazed  the  White  Linen  Nurse's 
cheek.  "  I  'm  a  lonely  little  thing,"  she 
confided  wistfully.  "  Oh,  I  'm  an  awfully 
lonely  little  thing!"  With  really  shock 
ing  abruptness  the  old  malicious  smile  came 
twittering  back  to  her  mouth.  "  But  I  '11  get 
even  with  the  Parpa  yet !  "  she  threatened  joy 
ously,  reaching  out  with  pliant  ringers  to  count 
93 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

the  buttons  on  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  dress. 
"  Oh,  I  '11  get  even  with  the  Parpa  yet !  " 
In  the  midst  of  the  passionate  assertion  her 
rigid  little  mouth  relaxed  in  a  most  mild  and 
innocent  yawn. 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  she  yawned,  "  on  wash 
days  and  ironing  days  and  every  other  work 
day  in  the  week  he  has  to  be  away  cutting 
up  people  'cause  that 's  his  lawful  business. 
But  Sundays,  when  he  does  n't  really  need  to 
at  all,  he  goes  off  to  some  kind  of  a  green, 
grassy  club  —  all  day  long  —  and  plays  golf." 

Very  palpably  her  eyelids  began  to  droop. 
"Where  was  I?"  she  asked  sharply.  "Oh, 
yes,  '  the  green,  grassy  club/  Well,  when  I 
die,"  she  faltered,  "  I  'm  going  to  die  specially 
on  some  Sunday  when  there  's  a  big  golf  game, 
—  so  he  '11  just  naturally  have  to  give  it  up 
and  stay  home  and  —  amuse  me  —  and  help 
arrange  the  flowers.  The  Parpa 's  crazy 
about  flowers.  So  am  I,"  she  added  brood- 
ingly.  "  I  raised  almost  a  geranium  once. 
But  the  Parpa  threw  it  out.  It  was  a  good 
geranium,  too.  All  it  did  was  just  to  drip  the 
tiniest-teeniest  bit  over  a  book  and  a  writing 
and  somebody's  brains  in  a  dish.  He  threw 
94 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

it  at  a  eat.     It  was  a  good  cat,  too.     All  it  did 
was  to—" 

A  little  jerkily  her  drooping  head  bobbed 
forward  and  then  back  again.  Her  heavy 
eyes  were  almost  tight  shut  by  this  time,  and 
after  a  moment's  silence  her  lips  began  mov 
ing  dumbly  like  one  at  silent  devotions. 
"  I  'm  making  a  little  poem,  now,"  she  con 
fided  at  last.  "  It 's  about  —  you  and  me. 
It 's  a  sort  of  a  little  prayer."  Very,  very 
softly  she  began  to  repeat. 

Now  I  sit  me  down  to  nap 
All  curled  up  in  a  Nursie's  lap, 
If  she  should  die  before  I  wake  — 

Abruptly   she  stopped   and  stared  up   sus 
piciously  into  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  eyes. 
"Ha!"    she    mocked,    "you    thought    I    was 
going  to  say  '  If  I  should  die  before  I  wake,'- 
did  n't  you  ?     Well,  I  'm  not!  " 

"  It  would  have  been  more  generous," 
acknowledged  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Very  stiffly  the  Little  Girl  pursed  her  lips. 
"  It 's  plenty  generous  enough  —  when  it 's  all 
done !  "  she  said  severely.  "  And  I  '11  thank 
you, —  Miss  Malgregor, —  not  to  interrupt  me 
again ! "  With  excessive  deliberateness  she 
95 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

went  back  to  the  first  line  of  her  poem  and 
began  all  over  again, 

Now  I  sit  me  down  to  nap, 

All  curled  up  in  a  Nursie's  lap, 

If  she  should  die  before  I  wake, 

Give  her  — give  her  ten  cents  — for  Jesus'  sake! 

"  Why  that 's  a  —  a  cunning  little  prayer," 
yawned  the  White  Linen  Nurse.  Most  cer 
tainly  of  course  she  would  have  smiled  if  the 
yawn  had  n't  caught  her  first.  But  now  in 
the  middle  of  the  yawn  it  was  a  great  deal 
easier  to  repeat  the  "  very  cunning  "  than  to 
force  her  lips  into  any  new  expression. 
"  Very  cunning  —  very  cunning,"  she  kept 
crooning  conscientiously. 

Modestly  like  some  other  successful  authors 
the  Little  Girl  flapped  her  eyelids  languidly 
open  and  shut  for  three  or  four  times  before 
she  acknowledged  the  compliment.  "  Oh,  cun 
ning  as  any  of  'em,"  she  admitted  off-hand- 
ishly.  Only  once  again  did  she  open  either 
mouth  or  eyes,  and  this  time  it  was  merely  one 
eye  and  half  a  mouth.  "  Do  my  fat  iron 
braces  —  hurt  you?"  she  mumbled  drowsily. 

"  Yes,  a  little,"  conceded  the  White  Linen 
Nurse. 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"Ha!  They  hurt  me  — all  the  time!" 
gibed  the  Little  Girl. 

Five  minutes  later,  the  child  who  didn't 
particularly  care  about  being  held,  and  the  girl 
who  did  n't  particularly  care  about  holding 
her,  were  fast  asleep  in  each  other's  arms, —  a 
naughty,  nagging,  restive  little  hornet  all 
hushed  up  and  a-dream  in  the  heart  of  a  pink 
wild-rose ! 

Stalking  out  of  the  house  in  his  own  due 
time  the  Senior  Surgeon  reared  back  aghast 
at  the  sight. 

«  Well  —  I  '11  be  hanged !  "  he  muttered. 
"  Most  everlastingly  hanged !  Wonder  what 
they  think  this  is  ?  A  somnolent  kindergarten 
show?  Talk  about  fiddling  while  Rome 
burns!" 

Awkwardly,  on  the  top  step,  he  struggled 
alone  into  his  cumbersome  coat.  Every  tin 
gling  nerve  in  his  body,  every  shuddering  sen 
sibility,  was  racked  to  its  utmost  capacity  over 
the  distressing  scenes  he  had  left  behind  him 
in  the  big  house.  Back  in  that  luxuriant  sick 
room,  Youth  Incarnate  lay  stripped,  root, 
branch,  leaf,  bud,  blossom,  fruit,  of  all  its 
manhood's  promise.  Back  in  that  erudite  li- 
97 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

brary,  Culture  Personified,  robbed  of  all  its 
fine  philosophy,  sat  babbling  illiterate  street- 
curses  into  its  quivering  hands.  Back  in  that 
exquisite  pink  and  gold  boudoir,  Blonded 
Fashion,  ravished  for  once  of  all  its  artistry, 
ran  stumbling  round  and  round  in  intermi 
nable  circles  like  a  disheveled  hag.  In  shrill 
crescendos  and  discordant  basses,  with  heart- 
piercing  jaggedness,  with  blood-curdling  rasp- 
ishness,  each  one,  boy,  father,  mother,  med 
dlesome  relative,  competent  or  incompetent 
assistant,  indiscriminate  servant,  filing  his 
separate  sorrow  into  the  Senior  Surgeon's 
tortured  ears! 

With  one  of  those  sudden  revulsions  to 
materialism  which  is  liable  to  overwhelm  any 
man  who  delves  too  long  at  a  time  in  the  bru 
tally  unconventional  issues  of  life  and  death, 
the  Senior  Surgeon  stepped  down  into  the 
subtle,  hyacinth-scented  sunshine  with  every 
latent  human  greed  in  his  body  clamoring  for 
expression  —  before  it,  too,  should  be  hurtled 
into  oblivion.  "  Eat,  you  fool,  and  drink, 
you  fool,  and  be  merry, —  you  fool, —  for 
to-morrow  —  even  you, —  Lendicott  R.  Faber 
—  may  have  to  die! "  brawled  and  re-brawled 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

through  his  mind  like  a  ribald  phonograph 
tune. 

At  the  edge  of  the  bottom  step  a  precipitous 
lilac  branch  that  must  have  budded  and 
bloomed  in  a  single  hour  smote  him  stingingly 
across  his  cheek.  "  Laggard !  "  taunted  the 
lilac  branch. 

With  the  first  crunching  grit  of  gravel  under 
his  feet,  something  transcendently  naked  and 
unashamed  that  was  neither  Brazen  Sorrow 
nor  Brazen  Pain  thrilled  across  his  startled 
consciousness.  Over  the  rolling,  marshy 
meadow,  beyond  the  succulent  willow-hedge 
that  hid  the  winding  river,  up  from  some 
fluent,  slim  canoe,  out  from  a  chorus  of  virile 
young  tenor  voices,  a  little  passionate  Love 
Song  —  divinely  tender  —  most  incomparably 
innocent  —  came  stealing  palpitantly  forth 
into  that  inflammable  Spring  world  without  a 
single  vestige  of  accompaniment  on  it! 

Kiss  me,    Sweet,  the   Spring  is  here, 
And  Love  is  Lord  of  you  and  me, 
There 's  no  bird  in  brake  or  brere, 
But  to  his  little  mate  sings  he, 
"  Kiss  me,  Sweet,  the  Spring  is  here 
And  Love  is  Lord  of  you  —  and  me !  " 

Wrenched  like  a  sob  out  of  his  own  lost 
99 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

youth  the  Senior  Surgeon's  faltering  college 
memories  took  up  the  old  refrain 

As  I  go   singing,  to  my  dear, 

"  Kiss  me,  Sweet,  the  Spring  is  here, 

And  Love  is  Lord  of  you  and  me ! " 

Just  for  an  instant  a  dozen  long-forgotten 
pictures  lanced  themselves  poignantly  into  his 
brain, —  dingy,  uncontrovertible  old  recitation 
rooms  where  young  ideas  flashed  bright  and 
futile  as  parade  swords, —  elm-shaded  slopes 
where  lithe  young  bodies  lolled  on  green  velvet 
grasses  to  expound  their  harshest  cynicisms! 
Book-history,  book-science,  book-economics, 
book-love, —  all  the  paper  passion  of  all  the 
paper  poets  swaggering  imperiously  on  boyish 
lips  that  would  have  died  a  thousand  bashful 
deaths  before  the  threatening  imminence  of  a 
real  girl's  kiss!  Magic  days,  with  Youth  the 
one  glittering,  positive  treasure  on  the  Tree  of 
Life  —  and  Woman  still  a  mystery! 

"  Woman  a  mystery  ?  "  Harshly  the  phrase 
ripped  through  the  Senior  Surgeon's  brain. 
Croakingly  in  that  instant  all  the  grim  gray 
scientific  years  re-overtook  him,  swamped  him, 
strangled  him.  "  Woman  a  mystery?  Oh  ye 
100 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  .NURSE 

Gods !     And  Youth  ?     Bah !     Youth, —  a  mere 
tinsel  tinkle  on  a  rotting  Christmas  tree!  " 

Furiously  with  renewed  venom  he  turned 
and  threw  his  weight  again  upon  the  stub 
bornly  resistant  crank  of  his  automobile. 

Vaguely  disturbed  by  the  noise  and  vibra 
tion  the  White  Linen  Nurse  opened  her  big, 
drowsy,  blue  eyes  upon  him. 

"  Don't  —  jerk  —  it  —  so !  "  she  admon 
ished  hazily,  "  You  '11  wake  the  Little  Girl !  " 

"  Well,  what  about  my  convenience,  I  'd 
like  to  know?"  snapped  the  Senior  Surgeon 
in  some  astonishment. 

Heavily  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  lashes 
shadowed  down  again  across  her  sleep-flushed 
cheeks. 

"  Oh,  never  mind  —  about  —  that,"  she 
mumbled  non-concernedly. 

"  Oh,  for  Heaven's  sake  —  wake  up  there !  " 
bellowed  the  Senior  Surgeon  above  the  sud 
den  roar  of  his  engine. 

Adroitly  for  a  man  of  his  bulk  he  ran 
around  the  radiator  and  jumped  into  his  seat. 
Joggled  unmercifully  into  wakefulness,  the 
Little  Girl  greeted  his  return  with  a  generous 
if  distinctly  non-tactful  demonstration  of  af- 
101 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

faction.  Grabbing  the  unwitting  fingers  of  his 
momentarily  free  hand  she  tapped  them 
proudly  against  the  White  Linen  Nurse's 
plump  pink  cheek. 

"See!  I  call  her  '  Peach'!"  she  boasted 
joyously  with  all  the  triumphant  air  of  one 
who  felt  assured  that  mental  discrimination 
such  as  this  could  not  possibly  fail  to  impress 
even  a  person  so  naturally  obtuse  as  —  a 
father. 

"  Don't  be  foolish ! "  snarled  the  Senior 
Surgeon. 

"Who?  Me?"  gasped  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  in  a  perfect  agony  of  confusion. 

"Yes!  You!"  snapped  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  explosively  half  an  hour  later  after  in 
terminable  miles  of  absolute  silence' — and 
dingy  yellow  field-stubble  —  and  bare  brown 
alder  bushes. 

Truly  out  of  the  ascetic  habit  of  his  daily 
life,  "  where  no  rain  was,"  as  the  Bible  would 
put  it,  it  did  seem  to  him  distinctly  foolish, 
not  to  say  careless,  not  to  say  out  and  out  in 
cendiary,  for  any  girl  to  go  blushing  her  way 
like  a  fire-brand  through  a  world  so  palpably 
populated  by  young  men  whose  heads  were 
1 02 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

tow,  and  hearts  indisputably  tinder,  rather 
than  tender. 

"  Yes !  You !  "  he  reasserted  vehemently 
at  the  end  of  another  silent  mile. 

Then  plainly  begrudging  this  second  inex 
cusable  interruption  of  his  most  vital  musings 
concerning  Spinal  Meningitis  he  scowled  his 
way  savagely  back  again  into  his  own  grimly 
established  trend  of  thought. 

Excited  by  so  much  perfectly  good  silence 
that  nobody  seemed  to  be  using  the  Little 
Crippled  Girl  ventured  gallantly  forth  once 
more  into  the  hazardous  conversational  land 
of  grown-ups. 

"Father?"  she  experimented  cautiously 
with  most  commendable  discretion. 

Fathoms  deep  in  abstraction  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  stared  unheeding  into  the  whizzing  black 
road.  Pulses  and  temperatures  and  blood- 
pressures  were  seething  in  his  mind ;  and  sharp 
sticks  and  jagged  stones  and  the  general  pos 
sibilities  of  a  puncture;  and  murmurs  of  the 
heart  and  rales  of  the  lungs;  and  a  most  un 
accountable  knock-knock-knocking  in  the  en 
gine;  and  the  probable  relation  of  middle-ear 
disease;  and  the  perfectly  positive  symptoms 
103 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

of  optic  neuritis;  and  a  damned  funny  squeak 
in  the  steering  gear ! 

"Father?"  the  Little  Girl  persisted  val 
iantly. 

To  add  to  his  original  concentration  the 
Senior  Surgeon's  linen  collar  began  to  chafe 
him  maddeningly  under  his  chin.  The  annoy 
ance  added  two  scowls  to  his  already  blackly 
furrowed  face,  and  at  least  ten  miles  an  hour 
to  his  running  time;  but  nothing  whatsoever 
to  his  conversational  ability. 

"  Father !  "  the  Little  Girl  whimpered  with 
faltering  courage.  Then  panic-stricken,  as 
wiser  people  have  been  before  her,  over  the 
dreadful  spookish  remoteness  of  a  perfectly 
normal  human  being  who  refuses  either  to  an 
swer  or  even  to  notice  your  wildest  efforts  at 
communication,  she  raised  her  waspish  voice 
in  its  shrillest,  harshest  war-cry.  "  Fat 
Father!  Fat  Father!  F-a-t  F-Ort-h-e-r ! " 
she  screeched  out  frenziedly  at  the  top  of  her 
lungs. 

The  gun-shot  agony  of  a  wounded  rabbit 
was  in  the  cry,  the  last  gurgling  gasp  of 
strangulation  under  a  murderer's  reeking  fin- 


104 


^  WHITE  LINEN'  NURSE 

gers,  —  catastrophe  unspeakable,  —  disaster 
now  irrevocable ! 

Clamping  down  his  brakes  with  a  wrench 
that  almost  tore  the  insides  out  of  his  engine 
the  Senior  Surgeon  brought  the  great  car  to  a 
staggering  standstill. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  he  cried  in  real  terror. 
"What  is  it?" 

Limply  the  Little  Girl  stretched  down  from 
the  White  Linen  Nurse's  lap  till  she  could  nick 
her  toe  against  the  shiniest  wood-work  in 
sight.  Altogether  aimlessly  her  small  chin  be 
gan  to  burrow  deeper  and  deeper  into  her  big 
fur  collar. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  what  do  you  want  ? " 
demanded  the  Senior  Surgeon.  Even  yet 
along  his  spine  the  little  nerves  crinkled  with 
shock  and  apprehension.  "  For  Heaven's 
sake  what  do  you  want?" 

Helplessly  the  child  lifted  her  turbid  eyes 
to  his.  With  unmistakable  appeal  her  tiny 
hand  went  clutching  out  at  one  of  the  big  .but 
tons  on  his  coat.  Desperately  for  an  instant 
she  rummaged  through  her  brain  for  some 
remotely  adequate  answer  to  this  most  thun 
derous  question, —  and  then  retreated  precipi- 
105 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

tously  as  usual  to  the  sacristy  of  her  own 
imagination. 

"All  the  birds  were  there,  Father!"  she 
confided  guilelessly.  "  All  the  birds  were 
there, —  with  yellow  feathers  instead  of  hair! 
And  bumble-bees  —  crocheted  in  the  trees. 
And—" 

Short  of  complete  annihilation  there  was 
no  satisfying  vengeance  whatsoever  that  the 
Senior  Surgeon's  exploding  passion  could 
wreak  upon  his  offspring.  Complete  annihila 
tion  being  unfeasible  at  the  moment  he  merely 
climbed  laboriously  out  of  the  car,  re-cranked 
the  engine,  climbed  laboriously  back  into  his 
place  and  started  on  his  way  once  more.  All 
the  red  blustering  rage  was  stripped  completely 
from  him.  Startlingly  rigid,  startlingly  white, 
his  face  was  like  the  death-mask  of  a  pirate. 

Pleasantly  excited  by  she-did  n't-know-ex- 
actly-what,  the  Little  Girl  resumed  her  beloved 
falsetto  chant,  rhythmically  all  the  while  with 
her  puny  iron-braced  legs  beating  the  tune 
into  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  tender  flesh. 

All  the  birds   were  there 

With  yellow  feathers   instead  of  hair, 

And  bumblebees   crocheted   in  the   trees 

1 06 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

And  — and  — all  the  birds  were  there, 
With  yellow   feathers  instead  of  hair, 
And  — 

Frenziedly  as  a  runaway  horse  trying  to 
escape  from  its  own  pursuing  harness  and 
carriage  the  Senior  Surgeon  poured  increas 
ing  speed  into  both  his  own  pace  and  the  pace 
of  his  tormentor.  Up  hill, —  down  dale, — 
screeching  through  rocky  echoes, —  swishing 
through  blue-green  spruce-lands, —  dodging 
indomitable  boulders, —  grazing  lax,  treacher 
ous  embankments, —  the  great  car  scuttled 
homeward.  Huddled  behind  his  steering 
wheel  like  a  warrior  behind  his  shield,  every 
body-muscle  taut  with  strain,  every  facial 
muscle  diabolically  calm,  the  Senior  Surgeon 
met  and  parried  successively  each  fresh  on 
slaught  of  yard,  rod,  mile. 

Then  suddenly  in  the  first  precipitous  de 
scent  of  a  mighty  hill  the  whole  earth  seemed 
to  drop  out  from  under  the  car.  Down- 
down-down  with  incredible  swiftness  and 
smoothness  the  great  machine  went  diving  to 
wards  abysmal  space!  Up-up-up  with  incred 
ible  bumps  and  bouncings,  trees,  bushes,  stone 
walls  went  rushing  to  the  sky ! 
107 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Gasping  surprisedly  towards  the  Senior 
Surgeon  the  White  Linen  Nurse  saw  his  grim 
mouth  yank  round  abruptly  in  her  direction  as 
it  yanked  sometimes  in  the  operating-room 
with  some  sharp,  incisive  order  of  life  or 
death.  Instinctively  she  leaned  forward  for 
the  message. 

Not  over-loud  but  strangely  distinct  the 
words  slapped  back  into  her  straining  ears. 

"If  —  it  will  rest  your  face  any  —  to  look 
scared  —  by  all  means  —  do  so !  I  've  lost 
control  of  the  machine!"  called  the  Senior 
Surgeon  sardonically  across  the  roar  of  the 
wind. 

The  phrase  excited  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
but  it  did  not  remotely  frighten  her.  She 
was  not  in  the  habit  of  seeing  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  lose  control  of  any  situation.  Merely 
intoxicated  with  speed,  delirious  with  ozone, 
she  snatched  up  the  Little  Girl  close,  to  her 
breast. 

"We're  flying!"  she  cried.  "We're 
dropping  from  a  parachute !  We  're  —  !  " 

Swoopingly  like  a  sled  striking  glare,  level 
ice  the  great  car  swerved  from  the  bottom  of 
the  hill  into  a  soft  rolling  meadow.  Instantly 
1 08 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

from  every  conceivable  direction,  like  foes  in 
ambush,  trees,  stumps,  rocks  reared  up  in 
threatening  defiance. 

Tighter  and  tighter  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
crushed  the  Little  Girl  to  her  breast.  Louder 
and  louder  she  called  in  the  Little  Girl's  ear. 

"Scream!"  she  shouted.  "  There  might 
be  a  bumf!  Scream  louder  than  a  bump! 
Scream!  Scream*!  Scream!" 

In  that  first  over-whelming,  nerve-numbing, 
heart-crunching  terror  of  his  whole  life  as  the 
great  car  tilted  up  against  a  stone, — plowed 
down  into  the  mushy  edge  of  a  marsh, —  and 
skidded  completely  round,  crashr-bang  —  into 
a  tree,  it  was  the  last  sound  that  the  Senior 
Surgeon  heard, —  the  sound  of  a  woman  and 
child  screeching  their  lungs  out  in  diabolical 
exultancy ! 


109 


CHAPTER  V 

WHEN  the  White  Linen  Nurse  found 
anything  again  she  found  herself  lying 
perfectly  flat  on  her  back  in  a  reasonably  com 
fortable  nest  of  grass  and  leaves.  Staring  in 
quisitively  up  into  the  sky  she  thought  she 
noticed  a  slight  black  and  blue  discoloration  to 
wards  the  west,  but  more  than  that,  much  to 
her  relief,  the  firmament  did  not  seem  to  be 
seriously  injured.  The  earth,  she  feared  had 
not  escaped  so  easily.  Even  way  off  some 
where  near  the  tip  of  her  fingers  the  ground 
was  as  sore  —  as  sore  —  as  could  be  —  under 
her  touch.  Impulsively  to  her  dizzy  eyes  the 
hot  tears  started,  to  think  that  now,  tired  as  she 
was,  she  should  have  to  jump  right  up  in  an 
other  minute  or  two  and  attend  to  the  poor 
earth.  Fortunately  for  any  really  strenuous 
emergency  that  might  arise  there  seemed  to  be 
nothing  about  her  own  body  that  hurt  at  all  ex 
cept  a  queer,  persistent  little  pain  in  her  cheek. 
Not  until  the  Little  Crippled  Girl's  dirt- 
no 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

smouched  face  intervened  between  her  own 
staring  eyes  and  the  sky  did  she  realize  that 
the  pain  in  her  cheek  was  a  pinch. 

"  Wake  up!  Wake  up!  "  scolded  the  Little 
Crippled  Girl  shrilly.  "  Naughty  —  Pink  and 
White  Nursie!  I  wanted  to  hear  the  bump! 
You  screamed  so  loud  I  could  n't  hear  the 
bump!" 

With  excessive  caution  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  struggled  up  at  last  to  a  sitting  posture, 
and  gazed  perplexedly  around  her. 

It  seemed  to  be  a  perfectly  pleasant  field, — 
acres  and  acres  of  mild  old  grass  tottering 
palsiedly  down  to  watch  some  skittish  young 
violets  and  bluets  frolic  in  and  out  of  a  gig 
gling  brook.  Up  the  field?  Up  the  field? 
Hazily  the  White  Linen  Nurse  ground  her 
knuckles  into  her  incredulous  eyes.  Up  the 
field,  just  beyond  them,  the  great  empty  auto 
mobile  stood  amiably  at  rest.  From  the  gen 
eral  appearance  of  the  stone-wall  at  the  top 
of  the  little  grassy  slope  it  was  palpably  evi 
dent  that  the  car  had  attempted  certain  vain 
acrobatic  feats  before  its  failing  momentum 
had  forced  it  into  the  humiliating  ranks  of 
the  back-sliders. 

in 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Still  grinding  her  knuckles  into  her  eyes  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  turned  back  to  the  Little 
Girl.  Under  the  torn,  twisted  sable  cap  one 
little  eye  was  hidden  completely,  but  the  other 
^ye  loomed  up  rakish  and  bruised  as  a  prize 
fighter's.  One  sable  sleeve  was  wrenched 
disastrously  from  its  arm-hole,  and  along  the 
edge  of  the  vivid  little  purple  skirt  the  ill- 
favored  white  ruffles  seemed  to  have  raveled 
out  into  hopeless  yards  and  yards  and  yards 
of  Hamburg  embroidery. 

A  trifle  self-consciously  the  Little  Girl  be 
gan  to  gather  herself  together. 

"  We  —  we  seem  to  have  fallen  out  of 
something!"  she  confided  with  the  air  of  one 
who  halves  a  most  precious  secret. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "  But  what  has  become  of  —  your 
Father?" 

Worriedly  for  an  instant  the  Little  Girl 
sat  scanning  the  remotest  corners  of  the 
field.  Then  abruptly  with  a  gasp  of  real  re 
lief  she  began  to  explore  with  cautious 
fingers  the  geographical  outline  of  her  black 
eye. 

"  Oh,  never  mind  about  Father,"  she  as- 
112 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

serted  cheerfully.     "  I  guess  —  I  guess  he  got 
mad  and  went  home." 

"Yes  — I  know,"  mused  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "But  it  doesn't  seem  —  probable." 

"Probable?"  mocked  the  Little  Girl  most 
disagreeably.  Then  suddenly  her  little  hand 
went  shooting  out  towards  the  stranded  auto 
mobile. 

'''  Why,  there  he  is ! "  she  screamed. 
"Under  the  car!  Oh,  Look  — Look  — 
Lookey ! " 

Laboriously  the  White  Linen  Nurse  scram 
bled  to  her  knees.  Desperately  she  tried  to 
ram  her  fingers  like  a  clog  into  the  whirling 
dizziness  round  her  temples. 

"Oh,  my  God!  Oh,  my  God!  What's 
the  dose  for  anybody  under  a  car?"  she 
babbled  idiotically. 

Then  with  a  really  herculean  effort, —  both 
mental  and  physical,  she  staggered  to  her  feet, 
and  started  for  the  automobile. 

But  her  knees  gave  out,  and  wilting  down 
to  the  grass  she  tried  to  crawl  along  on  all- 
fours,  till  straining  wrists  sent  her  back  to 
her  feet  again. 

Whenever  she  tried  to  walk  the  Little  Girl 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

walked, —  whenever  she  tried  to  crawl  the  Lit 
tle  Girl  crawled. 

"  Is  n't  it  fun!"  the  shrill  childish  voice 
piped  persistently.  "  Is  n't  it  just  like  play 
ing  ship-wreck !  " 

When  they  reached  the  car  both  woman  and 
child  were  too  utterly  exhausted  with  breath- 
lessness  to  do  anything  except  just  sit  down 
on  the  ground  and  —  stare. 

Sure  enough  under  that  monstrous,  im 
movable  looking  machine  the  Senior  Sur 
geon's  body  lay  rammed  face-down  deep,  deep 
into  the  grass. 

It  was  the  Little  Girl  who  recovered  her 
breath  first. 

"  I  think  he 's  dead ! "  she  volunteered 
sagely.  "  His  legs  look  —  awfully  dead  —  to 
me !  "  Only  excitement  was  in  the  statement. 
It  took  a  second  or  two  for  her  little  mind  to 
make  any  particularly  personal  application  of 
such  excitement.  "  I  had  n't  —  exactly  — 
planned  —  on  having  him  dead !  "  she  began 
with  imperious  resentment.  A  threat  of  com 
plete  emotional  collapse  zig-zagged  suddenly 
across  her  face.  "  I  won't  have  him  dead ! 
114 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

I  won't!  I  won't!"  she  screamed  out 
stormily. 

In  the  amazing  silence  that  ensued  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  gathered  her  trembling 
knees  up  into  the  circle  of  her  arms  and  sat 
there  staring  at  the  Senior  Surgeon's  pros 
trate  body,  and  rocking  herself  feebly  to  and 
fro  in  a  futile  effort  to  collect  her  scattered 
senses. 

"  Oh,  if  some  one  would  only  tell  me  what 
to  do, —  I  know  I  could  do  it !  Oh,  I  know  I 
could  do  it!  If  some  one  would  only  tell  me 
what  to  do !  "  she  kept  repeating  helplessly. 

Cautiously  the  Little  Girl  crept  forward  on 
her  hands  and  knees  to  the  edge  of  the  car 
and  peered  speculatively  through  the  great  yel 
low  wheel-spokes.  "  Father !  "  she  faltered 
in  almost  inaudible  gentleness.  "  Father !  " 
she  pleaded  in  perfectly  impotent  whisper. 

Impetuously  the  White  Linen  Nurse  scram 
bled  to  her  own  hands  and  knees  and  jostled 
the  Little  Girl  aside. 

"Fat  Father!"  screamed  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "Fat  Father!  Fat  Father!  Fat 
Father!"  she  gibed  and  taunted  with  the  one 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

call   she   knew   that  had   never  yet   failed   to 
rouse  him. 

Perceptibly  across  the  Senior  Surgeon's 
horridly  quiet  shoulders  a  little  twitch  wrin 
kled  and  was  gone  again. 

"  Oh,  his  heart !  "  gasped  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "  I  must  find  his  heart !  " 

Throwing  herself  prone  upon  the  cool 
meadowy  ground  and  frantically  reaching  out 
under  the  running  board  of  the  car  to  her  full 
arm's  length  she  began  to  rummage  awk 
wardly  hither  and  yon  beneath  the  heavy 
weight  of  the  man  in  the  desperate  hope  of 
feeling  a  heart-beat. 

"Ouch!  You  tickle  me!"  spluttered  the 
Senior  Surgeon  weakly. 

Rolling  back  quickly  with  fright  and  relief 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  burst  forth  into  one 
maddening  cackle  of  hysterical  laughter. 
"Ha!  Ha!  Ha !"  she  giggled.  "Hi!  Hi! 
Titter!  Titter!  Titter!" 

Perplexedly  at  first  but  with  increasing 
abandon  the  Little  Girl's  voice  took  up  the 
same  idiotic  refrain.  "  Ha-Ha-Ha,"  she 
choked.  And  "Hi-Hi-Hi!"  And  "Titter! 
Titter!  Titter!" 

116 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

With  an  agonizing  jerk  of  his  neck  the 
Senior  Surgeon  rooted  his  mud-gagged  mouth 
a  half  inch  further  towards  free  and  spon 
taneous  speech.  Very  laboriously,  very  pains 
takingly,  he  spat  out  one  by  one  two  stones 
and  a  wisp  of  ground  pine  and  a  brackish, 
prickly  tickle  of  stale  golden-rod. 

"  Blankety-blank-blank  —  BLANK !  "  he 
announced  in  due  time,  "  Blankety-blank- 
blank-blank  —  BLANK !  Maybe  when  you 
two  —  blankety-blank  —  imbeciles  have  got 
through  your  blankety-blank  cackling  you  '11 
have  the  —  blankety-blank  decency  to  save 
my  —  my  blankety-blank-blank  —  blank  — 
blank-blank  life!" 

"Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"  persisted  the  poor 
helpless  White  Linen  Nurse  with  the  tears 
streaming  down  her  cheeks. 

"  Hi !  Hi !  Hi !  "  snickered  the  poor  Lit 
tle  Girl  through  her  hiccoughs. 

Feeling  hopelessly  crushed  under  two  tons 
and  a  half  of  car,  the  Senior  Surgeon  closed 
his  eyes  for  death.  No  man  of  his  weight,  he 
felt  quite  sure,  could  reasonably  expect  to  sur 
vive  many  minutes  longer  the  apoplectic, 
blood-red  rage  that  pounded  in  his  ear-drums. 
117 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Through  his  tight-closed  eyelids  very,  very 
slowly  a  red  glow  seemed  to  permeate.  He 
thought  it  was  the  fires  of  Hell.  Opening  his 
eyes  to  meet  his  fate  like  a  man  he  found 
himself  staring  impudently  close  instead  into 
the  White  Linen  Nurse's  furiously  flushed 
face  that  lay  cuddled  on  one  plump  cheek  star 
ing  impudently  close  at  him. 

«Wny  —  why  —  get     out!"     gasped     the 
Senior  Surgeon. 

Very  modestly  the  White  Linen  Nurses 
face  retreated  a  little  further  into  its  blushes. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  she  protested.  "  But  I  'm 
all  through  giggling  now.  I'm  sorry  — 

I'm—" 

In  sheer  apprehensiveness  the  Senior  Sur 
geon's  features  crinkled  wincingly  from  brow 
to  chin  as  though  struggling  vainly  to  retreat 
from  the  appalling  proximity  of  the  girl  i 

face.  „ 

«  your  —  eyelashes  —  are    too    long, 

complained  querulously. 

"Eh?"    jerked   the   White   Linen   Nurses 
face.     "  Is  it  your  brain  that 's  hurt  ?     Oh^sir, 
do  you  think  it 's  your  brain  that 's  hurt?  " 
118 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  It 's  my  stomach !  "  snapped  the  Senior 
Surgeon.  "I  tell  you  I'm  not  hurt,— I'm 
just  —  squashed !  I  'm  paralyzed !  If  I  can't 
get  this  car  off  me  — " 

"Yes,   that's  just  it,"   beamed  the  White 
Linen    Nurse's    face.     "That's   just   what   I 
crawled  in  here  to  find  out, —  how  to  get  the 
car  off  you.     That 's  just  what  I  want  to  find 
out.     I  could  run  for  help,  of  course, —  only 
I  could  n't  run,  'cause  my  knees  are  so  wobbly. 
It  would  take  hours  —  and  the  car  might  start 
or  burn  up  or  something  while  I  was  gone. 
But  you  don't  seem  to  be  caught  anywhere  on 
the  machinery,"  she  added  more  brightly,  "  it 
only  seems  to  be  sitting  on  you.     So  if  I  could 
only  get  the  car  off  you !     But  it 's  so  heavy. 
I  had  no  idea  it  would  be  so  heavy.     Could  I 
take  it  apart,  do  you  think?     Is  there  any  one 
place  where  I  could  begin  at  the  beginning  and 
take  it  all  apart?" 

1  Take     it    apart  —  Hell!"     groaned    the 
Senior  Surgeon. 

A  little  twitch  of  defiance  flickered  across 
the    White    Linen    Nurse's    face.     "All    the 
same,"  she  asserted  stubbornly,  "  if  some  one 
119 


THE  WHITE  LINEN1  NURSE 

would  only  tell  me  what  to  do  —  I  know  I 
could  do  it !  " 

Horridly  from  some  unlocatable  quarter  of 
the  engine  an  alarming  little  tremor  quickened 
suddenly  and  was  hushed  again. 

"  Get  out  of  here  —  quick !  "  stormed  the 
Senior  Surgeon's  ghastly  face. 

"  I  won't !  "  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse's 
face.  "  Until  you  tell  me  —  what  to  do !  " 

Brutally  for  an  instant  the  ingenuous  blue 
eyes  and  the  cynical  gray  eyes  battled  each 
other. 

"  Can  you  do  what  you  're  told  ?  "  faltered 
the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

"  I  mean  can  you  do  exactly  —  what  you  're 
told?"  gasped  the  Senior  Surgeon.  "Can 
you  follow  directions,  I  mean?  Can  you  fol 
low  them  —  explicitly?  Or  are  you  one  of 
those  people  who  listens  only  to  her  own  judg 
ment?" 

"  Oh,  but  I  have  n't  got  any  —  judgment," 
protested  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Palpably  in  the  Senior  Surgeon's  blood-shot 
eyes  the  leisurely  seeming  diagnosis  leaped  to 
precipitous  conclusions. 
120 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Then  get  out  of  here  —  quick  —  for  God's 
sake  —  and  get  to  work !  "  he  ordered. 

Cautiously  the  White  Linen  Nurse  jerked 
herself  back  into  freedom  and  crawled  around 
and  stared  at  the  Senior  Surgeon  through  the 
wheel-spokes  again.  Like  one  worrying  out 
some  intricate  mathematical  problem  his  men 
tal  strain  was  pulsing  visibly  through  his 
closed  eyelids. 

"Yes,  sir?"  prodded  the  White  Linen 
Nurse. 

"  Keep  still !  "  snapped  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
"  I  've  got  to  think,"  he  said.  "  I  Ve  got  to 
work  it  out !  All  in  a  moment  you  Ve  got  to 
learn  to  run  the  car.  All  in  a  moment !  It 's 
awful !  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind,  sir,"  affirmed  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  serenely. 

Frenziedly  the  Senior  Surgeon  rooted  one 
cheek  into  the  mud  again.  "  You  don't  — 
mind?  "  he  groaned  "  You  don't  —  mind? 
Why,  you  've  got  to  learn  —  everything ! 
Everything  —  from  —  the  very  beginning !  " 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,  sir,"  crooned  the 
White  Linen  Nurse. 

Ominously  from  somewhere  a  horrid  sound 
121 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

creaked  again.  The  Senior  Surgeon  did  not 
stop  to  argue  any  further. 

"  Now  come  here,"  ordered  the  Senior  Sur 
geon.  "  I  'm  going  to  —  I  'm  going  to  — " 
Startlingly  his  voice  weakened, —  trailed  off 
into  nothingness, —  and  rallied  suddenly  with 
exaggerated  bruskness.  "Look  here  now! 
For  Heaven's  sake  use  your  brains !  I  'm  go 
ing  to  dictate  to  you  —  very  slowly  —  one 
thing  at  a  time  —  just  what  to  do !  " 

Quite  astonishingly  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
sank  down  on  her  knees  and  began  to  grin  at 
him.  "  Oh,  no,  sir,"  she  said.  "  I  could  n't 
do  it  that  way, —  not  '  one  thing  at  a  time/ 
Oh,  no  indeed,  sir !  No !  "  Absolute  finality 
was  in  her  voice, —  the  inviolable  stubbornness 
of  the  perfectly  good-natured  person. 

"You'll  do  it  the  way  I  tell  you  to!" 
roared  the  Senior  Surgeon  struggling  vainly 
to  ease  one  shoulder  or  stretch  one  knee-joint. 

"  Oh,  no,  sir,"  beamed  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "  Not  one  thing  at  a  time !  Oh,  no, 
I  could  n't  do  it  that  way !  Oh,  no,  sir,  I 
won't  do  it  that  way  —  one  thing  at  a  time," 
she  persisted  hurriedly.  "  Why,  you  miglit 
122 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

faint  away  or  something  might  happen  — 
right  in  the  middle  of  it  —  right  between  one 
direction  and  another  —  and  I  would  n't  know 
at  all  —  what  to  turn  on  or  off  next  —  and  it 
might  take  off  one  of  your  legs,  you  know,  or 
an  arm.  Oh,  no, —  not  one  thing  at  a 
time!" 

"  Good-by  —  then,"  croaked  the  Senior 
Surgeon.  "  I  'm  as  good  as  dead  now."  A 
single  shudder  went  through  him, —  a  last 
futile  effort  to  stretch  himself. 

"  Good-by,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 
"  Good-by,  sir. — I  'd  heaps  rather  have  you  die 
—  perfectly  whole  —  like  that  —  of  your  own 
accord  —  than  have  me  run  the  risk  of  start 
ing  the  car  full-tilt  and  chopping  you  up  so  - 
or  dragging  you  off  so  —  that  you  did  n't  find 
it  convenient  to  tell  me  —  how  to  stop  the 
car." 

"  You  're  a  —  a  —  a  — "  spluttered  the 
Senior  Surgeon  indistinguishably. 

"  Crinkle-crackle,"  went  that  mysterious, 
horrid  sound  from  somewhere  in  the  ma 
chinery. 

"Oh  my  God !  "  surrendered  the  Senior  Sur- 
123 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

geon.  "  Do  it  your  own  —  damned  way ! 
Only  —  only — "  His  voice  cracked  rasp- 
ingly. 

"  Steady!  Steady  there!"  said  the  White 
Linen  Nurse.  Except  for  a  sudden  odd 
pucker  at  the  end  of  her  nose  her  expression 
was  still  perfectly  serene.  "  Now  begin  at 
the  beginning/'  she  begged.  "  Quick !  Tell 
me  everything  —  just  the  way  I  must  do  it! 
Quick  —  quick  —  quick !  " 

Twice  the  Senior  Surgeon's  lips  opened  and 
shut  with  a  vain  effort  to  comply  with  her 
request. 

"  But  you  can't  do  it,"  he  began  all  over 
again.  "  It  is  n't  possible.  You  have  n't  got 
the  mind ! " 

"Maybe  I  haven't,"  said  the  White 
Linen  Nurse.  "  But  I  've  got  the  memory. 
Hurry!" 

"  Creak,"  said  the  funny  little  something  in 
the  machinery.  "  Creak  —  drip  —  bubble !  " 

"Oh,  get  in  there  quick!"  surrendered  the 
Senior  Surgeon.  "  Sit  down  behind  the 
wheel !  "  he  shouted  after  her  flying  footsteps. 
"  Are  you  there  ?  For  God's  sake  —  are  you 
there?  Do  you  see  those  two  little  levers 
124 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

where  your  right  hand  comes?  For  God's 
sake  —  don't  you  know  what  a  lever  is? 
Quick  now !  Do  just  what  I  tell  you !  " 

A  little  jerkily  then,  but  very  clearly,  very 
concisely,  the  Senior  Surgeon  called  out  to  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  just  how  every  lever,  every 
pedal  should  be  manipulated  to  start  the 
car! 

Absolutely  accurately,  absolutely  indelibly 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  visualized  each  sep 
arate  detail  in  her  abnormally  retentive  mind! 

"  But  you  can't  —  possibly  remember  it !  " 
groaned  the  Senior  Surgeon.  "  You  can't  — 
possibly !  And  probably  the  damn  car 's 
bust  and  won't  start  —  anyway  —  and  — !  " 
Abruptly  the  speech  ended  in  a  guttural  snarl 
of  despair. 

"  Don't  be  a  —  blight !  "  screamed  the 
White  Linen  Nurse.  "  I  've  never  forgotten 
anything  yet,  sir !  " 

Very  tensely  she  straightened  up  suddenly 
in  her  seat.  Her  expression  was  no  longer 
even  remotely  pleasant.  Along  her  sensitive, 
fluctuant  nostrils  the  casual  crinkle  of  distaste 
and  suspicion  had  deepened  suddenly  into 
sheer  dilating  terror. 

125 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Left  foot  —  press  down  —  hard  —  left 
pedal !  "  she  began  to  sing-song  to  herself. 

"  No !  Right  foot !  —  right  foot !  "  cor 
rected  the  Little  Girl  blunderingly  from  some 
where  close  in  the  grass. 

"  Inside  lever  —  pull  —  way  —  back !  "  per 
sisted  the  White  Linen  Nurse  resolutely  as  she 
switched  on  the  current. 

"  No !  Outside  lever !  Outside!  Outside!  " 
contradicted  the  Little  Girl. 

"  Shut  your  darned  mouth !  "  screeched  the 
White  Linen  Nurse,  her  hand  on  the  throttle 
as  she  tried  the  self  starter. 

Bruised  as  he  was,  wretched,  desperately 
endangered  there  under  the  car  the  Senior 
Surgeon  could  almost  have  grinned  at  the 
girl's  terse,  unconscious  mimicry  of  his  own 
most  venomous  tones. 

Then  with  all  the  forty-eight  lusty,  ebullient 
years  of  his  life  snatched  from  his  lips  like 
an  untasted  cup,  and  one  single  noxious,  death- 
flavored  second  urged, —  forced, —  crammed 
down  his  choking  throat,  he  felt  the  great  car 
quicken  and  start. 

"  God !  "  said  the  Senior  Surgeon.  Just 
"  God !  "  The  God  of  mud,  he  meant !  The 
126 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

God  of  brackish  grass!  The  God  of  a  man 
lying*  still  hopeful  under  more  than  two  tons' 
weight  of  unaccountable  mechanism,  with  a 
novice  in  full  command. 

Up  in  her  crimson  leather  cushions,  free- 
lunged,  free-limbed,  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
heard  the  smothered  cry.  Clear  above  the 
whirr  of  wheels,  the  whizz  of  clogs,  the  one 
word  sizzled  like  a  red-hot  poker  across  her 
chattering  consciousness.  Tingling  through 
the  grasp  of  her  ringers  on  the  vibrating  wheel, 
stinging  through  the  sole  of  her  foot  that  hov 
ered  over  the  throbbing  clutch,  she  sensed  the 
agonized  appeal.  "  Short  lever  —  spark  — 
long  lever  —  gas !  "  she  persisted  resolutely. 
"  It  must  be  right !  It  must !  " 

Jerkily  then,  and  blatantly  unskilfully,  with 
riotous  puffs  and  spinning  of  wheels,  the  great 
car  started, —  faltered, —  balked  a  bit, —  then 
dragged  crushingly  across  the  Senior  Sur 
geon's  flattened  body,  and  with  a  great  wan 
ton  burst  of  speed  tore  down  the  sloping 
meadow  into  the  brook  —  rods  away.  Clamp 
ing  down  the  brakes  with  a  wrench  and  a 
racket  like  the  smash  of  a  machine-shop  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  jumped  out  into  the  brook, 
127 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

and  with  one  wild  terrified  glance  behind  her 
staggered  back  up  the  long  grassy  slope  to 
the  Senior  Surgeon. 

Mechanically  through  her  wooden-feeling 
lips  she  forced  the  greeting  that  sounded  most 
cheerful  to  her.  "  It 's  not  much  fun,  sir, — 
running  an  auto/'  she  gasped.  "I  don't  be 
lieve  I  'd  like  it !  " 

Half  propped  up  on  one  elbow, —  still  dizzy 
with  mental  chaos,  still  paralyzed  with  physical 
inertia, —  the  Senior  Surgeon  lay  staring 
blankly  all  around  him.  Indifferently  for  an 
instant  his  stare  included  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  Then  glowering  suddenly  at  some 
thing  way  beyond  her,  his  face  went  perfectly 
livid. 

"  Good  God !  The  —  the  car  's  on  fire !  "  he 
mumbled. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 
(*  Why !  Did  n't  you  know  it,  sir  ?  " 


128 


CHAPTER  VI 

HEADLONG  the  Senior  Surgeon  pitched 
over  on  the  grass, —  his  last  vestige  of 
self-control  stripped  from  him, —  horror  un 
speakable  racking  him  sobbingly  from  head  to 
toe. 

Whimperingly  the  Little  Girl  came  crawl 
ing  to  him,  and  settling  down  close  at  his  feet 
began  with  her  tiny  lace  handkerchief  to  make 
futile  dabs  at  the  mud-stains  on  his  gray  silk 
stockings.  "  Never  mind,  Father,"  she 
coaxed,  "  we  '11  get  you  clean  sometime." 

Nervously  the  White  Linen  Nurse  be 
thought  her  of  the  brook.  "  Oh,  wait  a  min 
ute,  sir  —  and  I  '11  get  you  a  drink  of  water !  " 
she  pleaded. 

Bruskly  the  Senior  Surgeon's  hand  jerked 
out  and  grabbed  at  her  skirt. 

"  Don't  leave  me ! "  he  begged.  "  For 
God's  sake  —  don't  leave  me !  " 

Weakly  he  struggled  up  again  and  sat  star 
ing  piteously  at  the  blazing  car.  His  unre 
linquished  clutch  on  the  White  Linen  Nurse's 
129 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

skirt  brought  her  sinking  softly  down  beside 
him  like  a  collapsed  balloon.  Together  they 
sat  and  watched  the  gaseous  yellow  flames 
shoot  up  into  the  sky. 

"It's  pretty,  isn't  it?"  piped  the  Little 
Girl. 

"  Eh  ?  "  groaned  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"Father,"  persisted  the  shrill  little  voice. 
"Father, —  do  people  ever  burn  up?" 

ff  Ehf "  gasped  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
Brutally  the  harsh,  shuddering  sobs  began  to 
rack  and  tear  again  through  his  great  chest. 

"There!  There!"  crooned  the  White 
Linen  Nurse,  struggling  desperately  to  her 
knees.  "  Let  me  get  —  everybody  —  a  drink 
of  water." 

Again  the  Senior  Surgeon's  unrelinquished 
clutch  on  her  skirt  jerked  her  back  to  the  place 
beside  him. 

"  I  said  not  to*  leave  me! "  he  snapped  out 
as  roughly  as  he  jerked. 

Before  the  affrighted  look  in  the  White 
Linen  Nurse's  face  a  sheepish,  mirthless  grin 
flickered  across  one  corner  of  his  mouth. 

"  Lord !  But  I  'm  shaken !  "  he  apologized. 
"Me  —  of  all  people!"  Painfully  the  red 
130 


B- 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

blood  mounted  to  his  cheeks.  "  Me  —  of  all 
people !  "  Bluntly  he  forced  the  White  Linen 
Nurse's  reluctant  gaze  to  meet  his  own. 
"Only  yesterday,"  he  persisted,  "I  did  a 
laparotomy  on  a  man  who  had  only  one  chance 
in  a  hundred  of  pulling  through  —  and  I  —  I 
scolded  him  for  righting  off  his  ether  cone, — 
scolded  him  —  I  tell  you !  " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  soothed  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "But—" 

"But  nothing!"  growled  the  Senior 
Surgeon,  "The  fear  of  death?  Bah!  All 
my  life  I've  scoffed  at  it!  Die?  Yes,  of 
course, —  when  you  have  to, —  but  with  no 
kick  coming !  Why,  I  Ve  been  wrecked  in  a 
typhoon  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  And  I  did  n't 
care !  And  I  Ve  lain  for  nine  days  more  dead 
than  alive  in  an  Asiatic  cholera  camp.  And 
I  did  n't  care !  And  I  Ve  been  locked  into  my 
office  three  hours  with  a  raving  maniac  and 
a  dynamite  bomb.  And  I  did  n't  care !  And 
twice  in  a  Pennsylvania  mine  disaster  I  Ve 
been  the  first  man  down  the  shaft.  And  I 
didn't  care!  And  I  Ve  been  shot,  I  tell  you, 
—  and  I  Ve  been  horse-trampled, —  and  I  Ve 
been  wolf-bitten.  And  I  Ve  never  cared ! 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

But  to-day  —  to-day  — "  Piteously  all  the 
pride  and  vigor  wilted  from  his  great  shoul 
ders,  leaving  him  all  huddled  up  like  a  woman, 
with  his  head  on  his  knees.  "  But  to-day 
I  've  got  mine! "  he  acknowledged  brokenly. 

Once  again  the  White  Linen  Nurse  tried  to 
rise.  "  Oh,  please,  sir,  let  me  get  you  a  — 
drink  of  water,"  she  suggested  helplessly. 

"I  said  not  to  leave  me! "  jerked  the 
Senior  Surgeon. 

Perplexedly  with  big  staring  eyes  the  Lit 
tle  Crippled  Girl  glanced  up  at  this  strange 
fatherish  person  who  sounded  so  suddenly 
small  and  scared  like  herself.  Jealous  in 
stantly  of  her  own  prerogatives  she  dropped 
her  futile  labors  on  the  mud-stained  silk 
stockings  and  scrambled  precipitously  for 
the  White  Linen  Nurse's  lap  where  she  nes 
tled  down  finally  after  many  gyrations,  and 
sat  glowering  forth  at  all  possible  interlopers. 

"  Don't  leave  any  of  us !  "  she  ordered  with 
a  peremptoriness  not  unmixed  with  supplica 
tion. 

"  Surely  some  one  will  see  the  fire  and  come 
and  get  us,"  conceded  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"  Yes  —  surely,"  mused  the  White  Linen 
132 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Nurse.  Just  at  that  moment  she  was  mostly 
concerned  with  adjusting  the  curve  of  her 
shoulder  to  the  curve  of  the  Little  Girl's  head. 
"  I  could  sit  more  comfortably,"  she  sug 
gested  to  the  Senior  Surgeon,  "  if  you  'd  let 
go  my  skirt." 

"Let  go  of  your  skirt?  Who's  touching 
your  skirt?"  gasped  the  Senior  Surgeon  in 
credulously.  Once  again  the  blood  mounted 
darkly  to  his  face.  "I  think  I'll  get  up  — 
and  walk  around  a  bit,"  he  confided  coldly. 

"  Do,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Ouchily  with  a  tweak  of  pain  through  his 
sprained  back  the  Senior  Surgeon  sat  sud 
denly  down  again.  "  I  sha'n't  get  up  till  I  'm 
good  and  ready !  "  he  attested. 

"I  wouldn't,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen 
Nurse. 

Very  slowly,  very  complacently,  all  the  while 
she  kept  right  on  renovating  the  Little  Girl's 
personal  appearance,  smoothing  a  wrinkled 
stocking,  tucking  up  obstreperous  white  ruf 
fles,  tugging  down  parsimonious  purple  hems, 
loosening  a  pinchy  hook,  tightening  a  wobbly 
button.  ^Very  slowly,  very  complacently  the 
Little  Girl  drowsed  off  to  sleep  with  her  wea- 
133 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

zened  little  iron-cased  legs  stretched  stiffly  out 
before  her.  "  Poor  little  legs !  Poor  little 
legs !  Poor  little  legs !  "  crooned  the  White 
Linen  Nurse. 

"  I  don't  know  —  as  you  need  to  —  make  a 
song  about  it!"  winced  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
"  It 's  just  about  the  crudest  case  of  complete 
muscular  atrophy  that  I  've  ever  seen !  " 

Blandly  the  White  Linen  Nurse  lifted  her 
big  blue  eyes  to  his.  "  It  was  n't  her  '  com 
plete  muscular  atrophy '  that  I  was  thinking 
about !  "  she  said.  "  It 's  her  panties  that  are 
so  unbecoming !  " 

"Eh?"  jumped  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"  Poor  little  legs  —  poor  little  legs  —  poor 
little  legs/'  resumed  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
droningly. 

Very  slowly,  very  complacently,  all  around 
them  April  kept  right  on  —  being  April. 

Very  slowly,  very  complacently,  all  around 
them  the  grass  kept  right  on  growing,  and  the 
trees  kept  right  on  budding.  Very  slowly, 
very  complacently,  all  around  them  the  blue 
sky  kept  right  on  fading  into  its  early  evening 
dove-colors. 

Nothing  brisk,  nothing  breathless,  nothing 
134 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

even  remotely  hurried  was  there  in  all  the 
landscape  except  just  the  brook, —  and  the 
flash  of  a  bird, —  and  the  blaze  of  the  crackling 
automobile. 

The  White  Linen  Nurse's  nostrils  were 
smooth  and  calm  with  the  lovely  sappy  scent 
of  rabbit-nibbled  maple  bark  and  mud-wet 
arbutus  buds.  The  White  Linen  Nurse's 
mind  was  full  of  sumptuous,  succulent  marsh 
marigolds,  and  fluffy  white  shad-bush  blos 
soms. 

The  Senior  Surgeon's  nostrils  were  all 
puckered  up  with  the  stench  of  burning  var 
nish.  The  Senior  Surgeon's  mind  was  full  of 
the  horrid  thought  that  he  'd  forgotten  to  re 
new  his  automobile  fire-insurance, —  and  that 
he  had  a  sprained  back,— and  that  his  rival 
colleague  had  told  him  he  did  n't  know  how  to 
run  an  auto  anyway  — and  that  the  cook 
had  given  notice  that  morning,—  and  that  he 
had  a  sprained  back,—  and  that  the  moths  had 
gnawed  the  knees  out  of  his  new  dress  suit  — 
and  that  the  Superintendent  of  Nurses  had  had 
the  audacity  to  send  him  a  bunch  of  pink  roses 
for  his  birthday,—  and  that  the  boiler  in  the 
kitchen  leaked,—  and  that  he  had  to"  go  to 
135 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Philadelphia  the  next  day  to  read  a  paper  on 
"  Surgical  Methods  at  the  Battle  of  Water 
loo," —  and  he  had  n't  even  begun  the  paper 
yet, —  and  that  he  had  a  sprained  back, —  and 
that  the  wall-paper  on  his  library  hung  in 
shreds  and  tatters  waiting  for  him  to  decide 
between  a  French  fresco  effect  and  an  early 
English  paneling, —  and  that  his  little  daugh 
ter  was  growing  up  in  wanton  ugliness  under 
the  care  of  coarse,  indifferent  hirelings, —  and 
that  the  laundry  robbed  him  weekly  of  at  least 
five  socks, —  and  that  it  would  cost  him  fully 
seven  thousand  dollars  to  replace  this  car, — 
and  that  he  had  a  sprained  back! 

"It's  restful,  isn't  it?"  cooed  the  White 
Linen  Nurse. 

"  Is  n't  what  restful?  "  glowered  the  Senior 
Surgeon. 

"  Sitting  down ! "  said  the  White  Linen 
Nurse. 

Contemptuously  the  Senior  Surgeon's  mind 
ignored  the  interruption  and  reverted  precipi 
tously  to  its  own  immediate  problem  concern 
ing  the  gloomy,  black-walnut  shadowed 
entrance  hall  of  his  great  house,  and  how  many 
yards  of  imported  linoleum  at  $345  a  vard  it 

136 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

would  take  to  recarpet  the  "  damned  hole," — 
and  how  it  would  have  seemed  anyway  if  — 
if  he  had  n't  gone  home  —  as  usual  to  the  hor 
rid  black-walnut  shadows  that  night  —  but 
been  carried  home  instead  —  feet  first  and  — 
quite  dead  —  dead,  mind  you,  with  a  red 
necktie  on, —  and  even  the  cook  was  out ! 
And  they  would  n't  even  know  where  to  lay 
him  —  but  might  put  him  by  mistake  in  that 
—  in  that  —  in  his  dead  wife's  dead  —  bed ! 

Altogether  unconsciously  a  little  fluttering 
sigh  of  ineffable  contentment  escaped  the 
White  Linen  Nurse. 

"  I  don't  care  how  long  we  have  to  sit  here 
and  wait  for  help,"  she  announced  cheerfully, 
"  because  to-morrow,  of  course,  I  '11  have  to 
get  up  and  begin  all  over  again  —  and  go  to 
Nova  Scotia." 

"  Go  where?  "  lurched  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"  I  'd  thank  you  kindly,  sir,  not  to  jerk  my 
skirt  quite  so  hard !  "  said  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  just  a  trifle  stiffly. 

Incredulously  once  more  the  Senior   Sur 
geon  withdrew  his  detaining  hand.     "  I  'm  not 
even    touching   your   skirt!"    he    denied   des 
perately.     Nothing  but  denial   and  reiterated 
137 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

denial  seemed  to  ease  his  self-esteem  for  an 
instant.  "  Why,  for  Heaven's  sake,  should  I 
want  to  hold  on  to  your  skirt  ?  "  he  demanded 
peremptorily.  "What  the  deuce  —  ?  "  he  be 
gan  blusteringly.  "  Why  in  — ?  " 

Then  abruptly  he  stopped  and  shot  an  odd, 
puzzled  glance  at  the  White  Linen  Nurse,  and 
right  there  before  her  startled  eyes  she  saw 
every  vestige  of  human  expression  fade  out 
of  his  face  as  it  faded  out  sometimes  in  the 
operating-room  when  in  the  midst  of  some 
ghastly,  unforeseen  emergency  that  left  all  his 
assistants  blinking  helplessly  around  them,  his 
whole  wonderful  scientific  mind  seemed  to 
break  up  like  some  chemical  compound  into 
all  its  meek  component  parts, —  only  to  re 
organize  itself  suddenly  with  some  amazing 
explosive  action  that  fairly  knocked  the  breath 
out  of  all  on-lookers  —  but  was  pretty  apt  to 
knock  the  breath  into  the  body  of  the  person 
most  concerned. 

When  the  Senior  Surgeon's  scientific  mind 
had  reorganized  itself  to  meet  this  emer 
gency  he  found  himself  infinitely  more  sur 
prised  at  the  particular  type  of  explosion  that 

138 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

had  taken  place  than  any  other  person  could 
possibly  have  been. 

"  Miss  Malgregor !  "  he  gasped.  "  Speak 
ing  of  preferring  i  domestic  service/  as  you 
call  it, —  speaking  of  preferring  domestic  serv 
ice  to  —  nursing, —  how  would  you  like  to 
consider  —  to  consider  a  position  of  —  of  — 
well, —  call  it  a  —  a  position  of  general  — 
heartwork — for  a  family  of  two?  Myself 
and  the  Little  Girl  here  being  the  '  two/ —  as 
you  understand,"  he  added  briskly. 

"  Why,  I  think  it  would  be  grand !  "  beamed 
the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

A  trifle  mockingly  the  Senior  Surgeon 
bowed  his  appreciation.  "  Your  frank  and 
immediate  —  enthusiasm,"  he  murmured,  "  is 
more,  perhaps,  than  I  had  dared  to  expect." 

"  But  it  would  be  grand ! "  said  the 
White  Linen  Nurse.  Before  the  odd  little 
smile  in  the  Senior  Surgeon's  eyes  her  white 
forehead  puckered  all  up  with  perplexity. 
Then  with  her  mind  still  thoroughly  unawak- 
ened,  her  heart  began  suddenly  to  pitch  and 
lurch  like  a  frightened  horse  whose  rider  has 
not  even  remotely  sensed  as  yet  the  approach 
139 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

of  an  unwonted  footfall.  "What  —  did  — 
you  —  say  ?  "  she  repeated  worriedly.  "  Just 
exactly  what  was  it  that  you  said  ?  I  guess  — 
maybe  —  I  did  n't  understand  just  exactly 
what  it  was  that  you  said." 

The  smile  in  the  Senior  Surgeon's  eyes 
deepened  a  little.  "  I  asked  you,"  he  said, 
"  how  you  would  like  to  consider  a  position  of 
1  general  heart  work '  in  a  family  of  two, — 
myself  and  the  Little  Girl  here  being  the 
'  two/  '  Heartwork  '  was  what  I  said.  Yes, 
— '  Heartwork/ —  not  housework !  " 

" Heartwork?"  faltered  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "  Heartwork  f  I  don't  know  what 
you  mean,  sir."  Like  two  falling  rose-petals 
her  eyelids  fluttered  down  across  her  affrighted 
eyes.  "  Oh,  when  I  shut  my  eyes,  sir,  and 
just  hear  your  voice,  I  know  of  course,  sir, 
that  it 's  some  sort  of  a  joke.  But  when  1 
look  right  at  you  —  I  —  don't  know  —  what 
it  is!" 

"  Open  your  eyes  and  keep  them  open  then 
till  you  do  find  out !  "  suggested  the  Senior 
Surgeon  bluntly. 

Defiantly  once  again  the  blue  eyes  and  the 
gray  eyes  challenged  each  other. 
140 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  '  Heartwork  '  was  what  I  said,"  persisted 
the  Senior  Surgeon.  Palpably  his  narrowing 
eyes  shut  out  all  meaning  but  one  definite  one. 

The  White  Linen  Nurse's  face  went  almost 
as  blanched  as  her  dress.  "  You  're  —  you  're 
not  asking  me  to  —  marry  you,  sir?"  she 
stammered. 

"  I  suppose  I  am ! "  acknowledged  the 
Senior  Surgeon. 

"  Not  marry  you !  "  cried  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  Distress  was  in  her  voice, —  distaste, 
—  unmitigable  shock,  as  though  the  high  gods 
themselves  had  fallen  at  her  feet  and  splintered 
off  into  mere  candy  fragments. 

"Oh  —  not  marry  you,  sir?"  she  kept 
right  on  protesting.  "  Not  be  —  engaged, 
you  mean  ?  Oh,  not  be  engaged  —  and  every 
thing?" 

"  Well,  why  not  ?  "  snapped  the  Senior  Sur 
geon. 

Like  a  smitten  flower  the  girl's  whole  body 
seemed  to  wilt  down  into  incalculable  weari 
ness. 

"Oh  —  no  —  no !  I  could  n't !  "  she  pro 
tested.  "  Oh,  no, —  really !  "  Appealingly 
she  lifted  her  great  blue  eyes  to  his,  and  the 
141 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

blueness  was  all  blurred  with  tears.  "  I  Ve  — 
I  've  been  engaged  —  once  —  you  know,"  she 
explained  f  alteringly.  "  Why  —  I  was  en 
gaged,  sir,  almost  as  soon  as  I  was  born,  and  I 
stayed  engaged  till  two  years  ago.  That  Js  al 
most  twenty  years.  That 's  a  long  time,  sir. 
You  don't  get  over  it  —  easy."  Very,  very 
gravely  she  began  to  shake  her  head.  "  Oh  — 
no  —  sir !  No !  Thank  you  —  very  much  — 
but  I  —  I  just  simply  could  n't  begin  at  the 
beginning  and  go  all  through  it  again!  I 
have  n't  got  the  heart  for  it !  I  have  n't  got 
the  spirit!  Carvin'  your  initials  on  trees  and 
—  and  gadding  round  to  all  the  Sunday  school 
picnics  — " 

Brutally  like  a  boy  the  Senior  Surgeon 
threw  back  his  head  in  one  wild  hoot  of  joy. 
Infinitely  more  cautiously  as  the  agonizing 
pang  in  his  shoulder  lulled  down  again  he  pro 
ceeded  to  argue  the  matter,  but  the  grin  in  his 
face  was  even  yet  faintly  traceable. 

"  Frankly,  Miss  Malgregor,"  he  affirmed, 
"  I  'm  infinitely  more  addicted  to  carving  peo 
ple  than  to  carving  trees.  And  as  to  Sunday 
school  picnics  ?  Well,  really  now  —  I  hardly 
142 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

believe  that  you  'd  find  my  demands  in  that  di 
rection  —  excessive !  " 

Perplexedly  the  White  Linen  Nurse  tried  to 
stare  her  way  through  his  bantering  smile  to 
his  real  meaning.  Furiously,  as  she  stared, 
the  red  blood  came  flushing  back  into  her  face. 

:t  You  don't  mean  for  a  second  that  you  — 
that  you  love  me  ?  "  she  asked  incredulously. 

"  No,  I  don't  suppose  I  do !  "  acknowledged 
the  Senior  Surgeon  with  equal  bluntness. 
"  But  my  little  kiddie  here  loves  you! "  he  has 
tened  somewhat  nervously  to  affirm.  "  Oh, 
I  'm  almost  sure  that  my  little  kiddie  here  — 
loves  you !  She  needs  you  anyway !  Let  it  go 
at  that!  Call  it  that  we  both  —  need  you!" 

"What  you  mean  is—"  corrected  the 
White  Linen  Nurse,  "  that  needing  some 
body  —  very  badly,  you  Ve  just  suddenly  de 
cided  that  that  somebody  might  as  well  be 
me?" 

"  Well  —  if  you  choose  to  put  it  —  like 
that ! "  said  the  Senior  Surgeon  a  bit  sulkily. 

"  And  if  there  had  n?t  been  an  auto  acci 
dent?"  argued  the  White  Linen  Nurse  just 
out  of  sheer  inquisitiveness,  "  if  there  had  n't 
143 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

been  just  this  particular  kind  of  an  auto  acci 
dent  —  at  this  particular  hour  —  of  this  par 
ticular  day  —  of  this  particular  month  —  with 
marigolds  and  —  everything,  you  probably 
never  would  have  realized  that  you  did  need 
anybody  ?  " 

"  Maybe  not,"  admitted  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"  u — m — m/'  said  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "  And  if  you  'd  happened  to  take  one 
of  the  other  girls  to-day  —  instead  of  me, — 
why  then  I  suppose  you'd  have  felt  that  she 
was  the  one  you  really  needed?  And  if 
you  'd  taken  the  Superintendent  of  Nurses  — 
instead  of  any  of  us  girls  —  you  might  even 
have  felt  that  she  was  the  one  you  most 
needed?" 

With  surprising  agility  for  a  man  with  a 
sprained  back  the  Senior  Surgeon  wrenched 
himself  around  until  he  faced  her  quite 
squarely. 

"  Now  see  here,  Miss  Malgregor ! "  he 
growled.  "  For  Heaven's  sake  listen  to  sense, 
even  if  you  can't  talk  it!  Here  am  I,  a  plain 
professional  man  —  making  you  a  plain  pro 
fessional  offer.  Why  in  thunder  should  you 
try  to  fuss  me  all  up  because  my  offer  is  n't 
144 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

couched  in  all  the  foolish,  romantic,  lace-paper 
sort  of  flub-dubbery  that  you  think  such  an 
offer  ought  to  be  couched  in  ?  Eh  ?  " 

"  Fuss  you  all  up,  sir  ? "  protested  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  with  real  anxiety. 

'  Yes  —  fuss  me  all  up !  "  snarled  the  Senior 
Surgeon  with  increasing  venom.  "  I  'm  no 
story-writer!  I'm  not  trying  to  make  up 
what  might  have  happened  a  year  from  next 
February  in  a  Chinese  junk  off  the  coast  of 
—  Nova  Zembla  —  to  a  Methodist  preacher  — 
and  a  —  and  a  militant  suffragette!  What 
I  'm  trying  to  size  up  is  —  just  what 's  hap 
pened  to  you  and  me  —  to-day !  For  the  fact 
remains  that  it  is  to-day !  And  it  is  you  and 
I!  And  there  has  been  an  accident!  And 
out  of  that  accident  —  and  everything  that 's 
gone  with  it  —  I  have  come  out  —  thinking  of 
something  that  I  never  thought  of  before! 
And  there  were  marigolds !  "  he  added  with 
unexpected  whimsicality.  "  You  see  I  don't 
deny  —  even  the  marigolds !  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

"Yes  what?"  jerked  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

Softly  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  chin  bur 
rowed  down  a  little  closer  against  the  sleeping 
145 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

child's  tangled  hair.  "  Why  —  yes  —  thank 
you  very  much  —  but  I  never  shall  love  again," 
she  said  quite  definitely. 

"Love?"  gasped  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
"  Why,  I  Jm  not  asking  you  to  love  me !  " 
His  face  was  suddenly  crimson.  "  Why,  I  'd 
hate  it,  if  you  —  loved  me !  Why,  I  'd  — " 

"O— h— h,"  mumbled  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  in  new  embarrassment.  Then  suddenly 
and  surprisingly  her  chin  came  tilting  bravely 
up  again.  "  What  do  you  want  ?  "  she  asked. 

Helplessly  the  Senior  Surgeon  threw  out  his 
hands.  "  My  goodness !  "  he  said.  "  What 
do  you  suppose  I  want?  /  want  some  one  to 
take  care  of  us! " 

Gently  the  White  Linen  Nurse  shifted  her 
shoulder  to  accommodate  the  shifting  little 
sleepyhead  on  her  breast. 

'  You   can   hire   some  one   for   that,"    she 
suggested  with  real  relief. 

"  I  was  trying  to  hire  —  you !  "  said  the 
Senior  Surgeon  quite  tersely. 

"Hire  me?"  gasped  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "Why!  Why!" 

Adroitly  she  slipped  both  hands  under  the 
sleeping  child  and  delivered   the  little   frail- 
146 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

fleshed,  heavily  ironed  body  into  the  Senior 
Surgeon's  astonished  arms. 

"I— -I  don't  want  to  hold  her,"  he  pro 
tested. 

"She  —  isn't  mine!"  argued  the  White 
Linen  Nurse. 

"  But  I  can't  talk  while  I  'm  holding  her !  " 
insisted  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"I  can't  listen  — while  I'm  holding  her!" 
persisted  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Freely  now,  though  cross-legged  like  a  Turk, 
she  jerked  herself  forward  on  the  grass  and 
sat  probing  up  into  the  Senior  Surgeon's  face 
like  an  excited  puppy  trying  to  solve  whether 
the  gift  in  your  up-raised  hand  is  a  lump  of 
sugar  —  or  a  live  coal. 

"You're  trying  to  hire  —  me?"  she 
prompted  him  nudgingly  with  her  voice. 
"  Hire  me  —  for  money?  " 

"  Oh  my  Lord,  no !  "  said  the  Senior  Sur 
geon.  *  There  are  plenty  of  people  I  can  hire 
for  money !  But  they  won't  stay !  "  he  ex 
plained  ruefully.  "  Hang  it  all,— they 
won't  stay!"  Above  his  little  girl's  white, 
pinched  face  his  own  ruddy  countenance  fur 
rowed  suddenly  with  unspeakable  anxiety. 
H7 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Why,  just  this  last  year,"  he  complained, 
"  we  've  had  nine  different  housekeepers  — 
and  thirteen  nursery  governesses !  "  Skilfully 
as  a  surgeon,  but  awkwardly  as  a  father,  he 
bent  to  re-adjust  the  weight  of  the  little  iron 
leg-braces.  "  But  I  tell  you  —  no  one  will 
stay  with  us !  "  he  finished  hotly.  "  There  's 
—  something  the  matter  —  with  us!  I  don't 
seem  to  have  money  enough  in  the  world  to 
make  anybody  —  stay  with  us!" 

Very  wryly,  very  reluctantly,  at  one  corner 
of  his  mouth  his  sense  of  humor  ignited  in  a 
feeble  grin. 

"  So  you  see  what  I  'm  trying  to  do  to  you, 
Miss  Malgregor,  is  to  —  hire  you  with  some 
thing  that  will  just  —  naturally  compel  you 
to  stay !  " 

If  the  grin  round  his  mouth  strengthened  a 
trifle,  so  did  the  anxiety  in  his  eyes. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Miss  Malgregor,"  he 
pleaded.  "  Here  's  a  man  and  a  house  and  a 
child  all  going  to  —  rack  and  ruin !  If  you  're 
really  and  truly  tired  of  nursing  —  and  are 
looking  for  a  new  job, —  what 's  the  matter 
with  tackling  us  ?  " 

148 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"It -would  be  a  job!"  admitted  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  demurely. 

"  Why,  it  would  be  a  deuce-of-a-job !  "  con 
fided  the  Senior  Surgeon  with  no  demureness 
whatsoever. 


149 


CHAPTER  VII 

VERY  soberly,  very  thoughtfully  then, 
across  the  tangled,  snuggling  head  of  his 
own  and  another  woman's  child,  he  urged  the 
torments  —  and  the  comforts  of  his  home  upon 
this  second  woman. 

"  What  is  there  about  my  offer  —  that  you 
don't  like?"  he  demanded  earnestly.  "  Is  it 
the  whole  idea  that  offends  you?  Or  just  the 
way  I  put  it  ?  '  General  Heartwork  for  a 
Family  of  Two?'  What  is  the  matter  with 
that?  Seems  a  bit  cold  to  you,  does  it,  for 
a  real  marriage  proposal?  Or  is  it  that  ft 's 
just  a  bit  too  ardent,  perhaps,  for  a  mere  plain 
business  proposition  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

"Yes  what?"  insisted  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"Yes — sir"  flushed  the  White  Linen 
Nurse. 

Very  meditatively  the  Senior  Surgeon  re 
considered  his  phrasing.  "  '  General  Heart- 
work  for  a  Family  of  Two  '  ?  U — m — m." 
150 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Quite  abruptly  even  the  tenseness  of  his  man 
ner  faded  from  him,  leaving  his  face 
astonishingly  quiet,  astonishingly  gentle. 
"  But  how  else,  Miss  Malgregor,"  he  queried, 
"  How  else  should  a  widower  with  a  child 
proffer  marriage  to  a  —  to  a  young  girl  like 
yourself?  Even  under  conditions  directly 
antipodal  to  ours,  such  a  proposition  can  never 
be  a  purely  romantic  one.  Yet  even  under 
conditions  as  cold  and  businesslike  as  ours, 
there  's  got  to  be  some  vestige  of  affection  in 
it, —  some  vestige  at  least  of  the  intelligence 
of  affection, —  else  what  gain  is  there  for  my 
little  girl  and  me  over  the  purely  mercenary 
domestic  service  that  has  racked  us  up  to  this 
time  with  its  garish  faithlessness?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

"But  even  if  I  had  loved  you,  Miss  Mal 
gregor,"  explained  the  Senior  Surgeon 
gravely,  "  my  offer  of  marriage  to  you  would 
not,  I  fear,  have  been  a  very  great  oratorical 
success.  Materialist  as  I  am, —  cynic  —  scien 
tist, —  any  harsh  thing  you  choose  to  call  me, 
—  marriage  in  some  freak,  boyish  corner  of 
my  mind,  still  defines  itself  as  being  the  mu 
tual  sharing  of  a — mutually  original  expe- 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

rience.  Certainly  whether  a  first  marriage  be 
instigated  in  love  or  worldliness, —  whether 
it  eventually  proves  itself  bliss,  tragedy,  or 
mere  sickening  ennui,  to  two  people  coming 
mutually  virgin  to  the  consummation  of  that 
marriage,  the  thrill  of  establishing  publicly 
a  man-and-woman  home  together  is  an  emo 
tion  that  cannot  be  reduplicated  while  life 
lasts." 

"  Yes,  sir/'  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Bleakly  across  the  Senior  Surgeon's  face 
something  gray  that  was  not  years  shadowed 
suddenly  and  was  gone  again. 

"  Even  so,  Miss  Malgregor,"  he  argued, 
"  even  so  — •  without  any  glittering  romance 
whatsoever,  no  woman  I  believe  is  very  grossly 
unhappy  in  any  —  affectional  place  —  that  she 
knows  distinctly  to  be  her  own  place.  It  Js 
pretty  much  up  to  a  man  then  I  think, — 
though  it  tear  him  brain  from  heart,  to  ex 
plain  to  a  second  wife  quite  definitely  just 
exactly  what  place  it  is  that  he  is  offering  her 
in  his  love, —  or  his  friendship, —  or  his  mere 
desperate  need.  No  woman  can  ever  hope  to 
step  successfully  into  a  second-hand  home 
who  does  not  know  from  her  man's  own  lips 
152 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

the  measure  of  her  predecessor.  The  respect 
we  owe  the  dead  is  a  selfish  thing  compared 
to  the  mercy  we  owe  the  living.  In  my  own 
case  — " 

Unconsciously  the  White  Linen  Nurse's 
lax  shoulders  quickened,  and  the  sudden  up 
ward  tilt  of  her  chin  was  as  frankly  interroga 
tive  as  a  French  inflection.  "  Yes,  sir,"  she 
said. 

"  In  my  own  case,"  said  the  Senior  Surgeon 
bluntly,  "  in  my  own  case,  Miss  Malgregor, 
it  is  no  more  than  fair  to  tell  you  that  I  —  did 
not  love  my  wife.  And  my  wife  did  not  love 
me."  Only  the  muscular  twitch  in  his  throat 
betrayed  the  torture  that  the  confession  cost 
him.  :<  The  details  of  that  marriage  are  un 
necessary,"  he  continued  with  equal  bluntness. 
"  It  is  enough  perhaps  to  say  that  she  was  the 
daughter  of  an  eminent  surgeon  with  whom  I 
was  exceedingly  anxious  at  that  time  to  be 
allied,  and  that  our  mating,  urged  along  on 
both  sides  as  it  was  by  strong  personal  am 
bitions  was  one  of  those  so-called  *  marriages 
of  convenience'  which  almost  invariably  turn 
out  to  be  marriages  of  such  dire  inconvenience 
to  the  two  people  most  concerned.  For  one 
153 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

year  we  lived  together  in  a  chaos  of  experimen 
tal  acquaintanceship.  For  two  years  we  lived 
together  in  increasing  uncongeniality  and  dis 
taste.  For  three  years  we  lived  together  in 
open  and  acknowledged  enmity.  At  the  last, 
I  am  thankful  to  remember,  that  we  had  one 
year  together  again  that  was  at  least  an- 
armed  truce." 

Darkly  the  gray  shadow  and  the  red  flush 
chased  each  other  once  more  across  the  man's 
haggard  face. 

"  I  had  a  theory,"  he  said,  "  that  possibly 
a  child  might  bridge  the  chasm  between  us. 
My  wife  refuted  the  theory,  but  submitted  her 
self  reluctantly  to  the  fact.  And  when  she  — 
died  in  giving  birth  to  —  my  theory, —  the 
shock,  the  remorse,  the  regret,  the  merciless 
self-analysis  that  I  underwent  at  that  time  al 
most  convinced  me  that  the  whole  miserable 
failure  of  our  marriage  lay  entirely  on  my 
own  shoulders."  Like  the  stress  of  mid-sum 
mer  the  tears  of  sweat  started  suddenly  on 
his  forehead.  "  But  I  am  a  fair  man,  I  hope, 
—  even  to  myself,  and  the  cooler,  less-tortured 
judgment  of  the  subsequent  years  has  prac 
tically  assured  me  that,  for' types  as  diamet- 
154 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

rically  opposed  as  ours,  such  a  thing  as  mutual 
happiness  never  could  have  existed." 

Mechanically  he  bent  down  and  smoothed  a 
tickly  lock  of  hair  away  from  the  little  girl's 
eyelids. 

"  And  the  child  is  the  living  physical  image 
of  her,"  he  stammered.  "  The  violent  hair, 

—  the  ghost-white  skin, —  the  facile  mouth, — 
the  arrogant  eyes, —  staring  —  staring  —  mad 
deningly    reproachful,    persistently    accusing. 
My    own    stubborn    will, —  my    own    hideous 
temper, —  all  my  own  ill-favored  mannerisms 

—  mocked  back  at  me  eternally  in  her  mother's 

—  unloved   features."     Mirthless  as  the  grin 
of    a    skull,    the     Senior     Surgeon's    mouth 
twisted  up  a  little  at  one  corner.     "  Maybe  I 
could  have  borne   it   better  if   she'd  been   a 
boy,"  he  acknowledged  grimly.     "  But  to  see 
all  your  virile  —  masculine  vices  come  back  at 
you  —  so  sissified  —  in  skirts! " 

"Yes,   sir,"   said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

With  an  unmistakable  gasp  of  relief  the 
Senior  Surgeon  expanded  his  great  chest. 

"There!  That's  done!"  he  said  tersely. 
"  So  much  for  the  Past !  Now  for  the  Pres 
ent!  Look  at  us  pretty  keenly  and  judge  for 
155 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

yourself !  A  man  and  a  very  little  girl, —  not 
guaranteed, —  not  even  recommended, —  of 
fered  merely  *  As  Is '  in  the  honest  trade- 
phrase  of  the  day, —  offered  frankly  in  an 
open  package, —  accepted  frankly, —  if  at  all 
— '  at  your  own  risk.'  Not  for  an  instant 
would  I  try  to  deceive  you  about  us!  Look 
at  us  closely,  I  ask,  and  —  decide  for  your 
self!  I  am  forty-eight  years  old.  I  am  in 
excusably  bad-tempered, —  very  quick  to  an 
ger,  and  not,  I  fear,  of  great  mercy.  I  am 
moody.  I  am  selfish.  I  am  most  distinctly 
unsocial.  But  I  am  not,  I  believe,  stingy, — 
nor  ever  intentionally  unfair.  My  child  is  a 
cripple, —  and  equally  bad-tempered  as  my 
self.  No  one  but  a  mercenary  has  ever  coped 
with  her.  And  she  shows  it.  We  have  lived 
alone  for  six  years.  All  of  our  clothes,  and 
most  of  our  ways,  need  mending.  I  am  not 
one  to  mince  matters,  Miss  Malgregor,  nor 
has  your  training,  I  trust,  made  you  one  from 
whom  truths  must  be  veiled.  I  am  a  man 
with  all  a  man's  needs, —  mental,  moral,  phys 
ical.  My  child  is  a  child  with  all  a  child's 
needs, —  mental,  moral,  physical.  Our  house 
of  life  is  full  of  cobwebs.  The  rooms  of  af- 
156 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

faction  have  long  been  closed.  There  will  be 
a  great  deal  of  work  to  do !  And  it  is  not 
my  intention,  you  see,  that  you  should  misun 
derstand  in  any  conceivable  way  either  the 
exact  nature  or  the  exact  amount  of  work  and 
worry  involved.  I  should  not  want  you  to 
come  to  me  afterwards  with  a  whine,  as  other 
workers  do,  and  say  '  Oh,  but  I  did  n't  know 
you  would  expect  me  to  do  this!  Oh,  but 
I  hadn't  any  idea  you  would  want  me  to  do 
that!  And  I  certainly  don't  see  why  you 
should  expect  me  to  give  up  my  Thursday 
afternoon  just  because  you,  yourself,  happened 
to  fall  down  stairs  in  the  morning  and  break 
your  back ! ' 

Across  the  Senior  Surgeon's  face  a  real 
smile  lightened  suddenly. 

"  Really,  Miss  Malgregor,"  he  affirmed, 
"I'm  afraid  there  isn't  much  of  anything 
that  you  won't  be  expected  to  do!  And  as 
to  your  *  Thursdays  out'?  Ha!  If  you 
have  ever  yet  found  a  way  to  temper  the  wind 
of  your  obligations  to  the  shorn  lamb  of  your 
pleasures,  you  have  discovered  something  that 
I  myself  have  never  yet  succeeded  in  discov 
ering  !  And  as  to  '  wages  '  ?  Yes !  I  want 
157 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

to  talk  everything  quite  frankly!  In  addi 
tion  to  my  average  yearly  earnings, —  which 
are  by  no  means  small, —  I  have  a  reasonably 
large  private  fortune.  Within  normal  limits 
there  is  no  luxury  I  think  that  you  cannot 
hope  to  have.  Also,  exclusive  of  the  inde 
pendent  income  which  I  would  like  to  settle 
upon  you,  I  should  be  very  glad  to  finance  for 
you  any  reasonable  dreams  that  you  may  cher 
ish  concerning  your  family  in  Nova  Scotia. 
Also, —  though  the  offer  looks  small  and  un 
important  to  you  now,  it  is  liable  to  loom 
pretty  large  to  you  later, —  also,  I  will  per 
sonally  guarantee  to  you  —  at  some  time  every 
year,  an  unfettered,  perfectly  independent 
two  months'  holiday.  So  the  offer  stands, — 
my  '  name  and  fame,' —  if  those  mean  any 
thing  to  you, —  financial  independence, —  an 
assured  '  breathing  spell '  for  at  least  two 
months  out  of  twelve, —  and  at  last  but 
not  least, —  my  eternal  gratitude !  '  General 
Heartwork  for  a  Family  of  Two  '  !  There! 
Have  I  made  the  task  perfectly  clear  to  you? 
Not  everything  to  be  done  all  at  once,  you 
know.  But  immediately  where  necessity 
urges  it, —  gradually  as  confidence  inspires  it, 

158 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

—  ultimately   if   affection   justifies   it, —  every 
womanish  thing  that  needs  to  be  done  in  a 
man's  and  a  child's  neglected  lives?     Do  you 
understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

"  Oh,  and  there 's  one  thing  more/'  con 
fided  the  Senior  Surgeon.  "  It 's  something, 
of  course,  that  I  ought  to  have  told  you  the 
very  first  thing  of  all!"  Nervously  he 
glanced  down  at  the  sleeping  child,  and  low 
ered  his  voice  to  a  mumbling  monotone.  "  As 
regards  my  actual  morals  you  have  naturally 
a  right  to  know  that  I  've  led  a  pretty  de 
cent  sort  of  life, —  though  I  probably  don't 
deserve  any  special  credit  for  that.  A  man 
who  knows  enough  to  be  a  doctor  is  n't  par 
ticularly  apt  to  lead  any  other  kind.  Frankly, 

—  as  women  rate  vices  I  believe  I  have  only 
one.     What  —  what  —  I  'm  trying  to  tell  you 

—  now  —  is   about   that    one."     A    little   de 
fiantly  as  to  chin,  a  little  appealingly  as  to  eye, 
he  emptied  his  heart  of  its  last  tragic  secret. 

'  Through   all   the  male   line   of   my   family, 
Miss    Malgregor,    dipsomania    runs   rampant. 
Two  of  my  brothers,  my   father,  my  grand 
father,  my  great  grandfather  before  him,  have 
159 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

all  gone  down  as  the  temperance  people  would 
say  into  *  drunkards'  graves.'  In  my  own 
case,  I  have  chosen  to  compromise  with  the 
evil.  Such  a  choice,  believe  me,  has  not  been 
made  carelessly  or  impulsively,  but  out  of  the 
agony  and  humiliation  of  —  several  less  suc 
cessful  methods."  Hard  as  a  rock,  his  face 
grooved  into  its  granite-like  furrows  again. 
"  Naturally,  under  these  existing  conditions," 
he  warned  her  almost  threateningly,  "  I  am 
not  peculiarly  susceptible  to  the  mawkishly 
ignorant  and  sentimental  protests  of  —  people 
whose  strongest  passions  are  an  appetite  for 
— •  chocolate  candy !  For  eleven  months  of 
the  year,"  he  hurried  on  a  bit  huskily,  "  for 
eleven  months  of  the  year, —  eleven  months, 
—  each  day  reeking  from  dawn  to  dark  with 
the  driving,  nerve-wracking,  heart-wringing 
work  that  falls  to  my  profession,  I  lead  an 
absolutely  abstemious  life,  touching  neither 
wine  nor  liquor,  nor  even  indeed  tea  or  coffee. 
In  the  twelfth  month, —  June  always, —  I  go 
way,  way  up  into  Canada, —  way,  way  off  in 
the  woods  to  a  little  log  camp  I  own  there, — 
with  an  Indian  who  has  guided  me  thus  for 
eighteen  years.  And  live  like  a  —  wild  man 
160 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

for  four  gorgeous,  care-free,  trail-tramping, 
salmon-fighting, — whisky-guzzling  weeks.  It 
is  what  your  temperance  friends  would  call 
a  — l  spree.'  To  be  quite  frank,  I  suppose  it 
is  what  —  anybody  would  call  a  '  spree.' 
Then  the  first  of  July, —  three  or  four  days 
past  the  first  of  July  perhaps, —  I  come  out  of 
the  woods  —  quite  tame  again.  A  little  emo 
tionally  nervous,  perhaps, —  a  little  temper- 
ishly  irritable, —  a  little  unduly  sensitive  about 
being  greeted  as  a  returned  jail-bird, —  but 
most  miraculously  purged  of  all  morbid  crav 
ing  for  liquor,  and  with  every  digital  muscle 
as  coolly  steady  as  yours,  and  every  conscious 
mental  process  clamoring  cleanly  for  its  own 
work  again." 

Furtively  tinder  his  glowering  brows  he 
stopped  and  searched  the  White  Linen  Nurse's 
imperturbable  face.  "  It 's  an  —  established 
custom,  you  understand,"  he  rewarned  her. 
"  I  'm  not  advocating  it,  you  understand, —  I  'm 
not  defending  it.  I  'm  simply  calling  your  at 
tention  to  the  fact  that  it  is  an  established  cus 
tom.  If  you  decide  to  come  to  us,  I  —  I 
could  n't,  you  know,  at  forty-eight  —  begin  all 
over  again  to  —  to  have  some  one  waiting  for 
161 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

me  on  the  top  step  the  first  of  July  to  tell  me  — 
what  a  low  beast  I  am  —  till  I  go  down  the 
steps  again  —  the  following  June." 

"  No,  of  course  not,"  conceded  the  White 
Linen  Nurse.  Blandly  she  lifted  her  lovely 
eyes  to  his.  "  Father  's  like  that !  "  she  con 
fided  amiably.  "  Once  a  year, —  just  Easter 
Sunday  only, —  he  always  buys  him  a  brand 
new  suit  of  clothes  and  goes  to  church.  And 
it  does  something  to  him, —  I  don't  know  ex 
actly  what,  but  Easter  afternoon  he  always 
gets  drunk, —  oh  mad,  fighting  drunk  is  what 
I  mean,  and  goes  out  and  tries  to  tear  up 
the  whole  county."  Worriedly  two  black 
thoughts  puckered  between  her  eyebrows. 
"  And  always,"  she  said,  "  he  makes  Mother 
and  me  go  up  to  Halifax  beforehand  to  pick 
out  the  suit  for  him.  It 's  pretty  hard  some 
times,"  she  said,  "  to  find  anything  dressy 
enough  for  the  morning,  that' s  serviceable 
enough  for  the  afternoon." 

"  Eh  ?  "  jerked  the  Senior  Surgeon.  Then 
suddenly  he  began  to  smile  again  like  a  stormy 
sky  from  which  the  last  cloud  has  just  been 
cleared.  "Well,  it's  all  right  then,  is  it? 
You'll  take  us?"  he  asked  brightly. 
162 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"Oh,  no!"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 
"Oh,  no,  sir!  Oh,  no  indeed,  sir!"  Quite 
perceptibly  she  jerked  her  way  backward  a 
little  on  the  grass.  "  Thank  you  very  much !  " 
she  persisted  courteously.  "  It 's  been  very 
interesting!  I  thank  you  very  much  for  tell 
ing  me,  but  — " 

"  But  what  ? "  snapped  the  Senior  Sur 
geon. 

"  But  it 's  too  quick,"  said  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "  No  man  could  tell  like  that  —  just 
between  one  eye-wink  and  another  what  he 
wanted  about  anything, —  let  alone  marrying 
a  perfect  stranger." 

Instantly  the  Senior  Surgeon  bridled.  "  I 
assure  you,  my  dear  young  lady,"  he  retorted, 
"  that  I  am  entirely  and  completely  accus 
tomed  to  deciding  between  '  one  wink  and  an 
other  '  just  exactly  what  it  is  that  I  want. 
Indeed,  I  assure  you  that  there  are  a  good 
many  people  living  to-day  who  would  n't  be 
living,  if  it  had  taken  me  even  as  long  as  a 
wink  and  three-quarters  to  make  up  my 
mind !  " 

:t  Yes,  I  know,  sir,"  acknowledged  the 
White  Linen  Nurse.  "  Yes,  of  course,  sir," 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

she  acquiesced  with  most  commendable  hu 
mility.  "  But  all  the  same,  sir,  I  could  n't 
do  it !  "  she  persisted  with  inflexible  positive- 
ness.  "Why,  I  haven't  enough  education," 
she  confessed  quite  shamelessly. 

"  You  had  enough,  I  notice,  to  get  into  the 
hospital,"  drawled  the  Senior  Surgeon  a  bit 
grumpily.  "  And  that 's  quite  as  much  as 
most  people  have,  I  assure  you !  '  A  High 
School  education  or  its  equivalent,' — that  is 
the  hospital  requirement,  I  believe?  "  he  ques 
tioned  tartly. 

"  '  A  High  School  education  or  its  —  equiv 
ocation  '  is  what  we  girls  call  it,"  confessed 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  demurely.  "  But 
even  so,  sir,"  she  pleaded,  "  it  is  n't  just  my 
lack  of  education !  It 's  my  brains !  I  tell 
you,  sir,  I  haven't  got  enough  brains  to  do 
what  you  suggest !  " 

"  I  don't  mean  at  all  to  belittle  your  brains," 
grinned  the  Senior  Surgeon  in  spite  of  him 
self.  "  Oh,  not  at  all,  Miss  Malgregor !  But 
you  see  it  is  n't  especially  brains  that  I  'm 
looking  for!  Really  what  I  need  most,"  he 
acknowledged  frankly,  "  is  an  extra  pair  of 
164 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

hands  to  go  with  the  —  brains  I  already 
possess !  " 

"  Yes,  I  know,  sir,"  persisted  the  White 
Linen  Nurse.  "  Yes,  of  course,  sir,"  she 
conceded.  "  Yes,  of  course,  sir,  my  hands 
work  —  awfully  —  well  —  with  your  face. 
But  all  the  same,"  she  kindled  suddenly,  "  all 
the  same,  sir,  I  can't!  I  won't!  I  tell  you 
sir,  I  won't !  Why,  I  'm  not  in  your  world, 
sir !  Why,  I  'm  not  in  your  class !  Why  — 
my  folks  are  n't  like  your  folks !  Oh,  we  're 
just  as  good  as  you  —  of  course  —  but  we 
are  n't  as  nice !  Oh,  we  're  not  nice  at  all ! 
Really  and  truly  we're  not!"  Desperately 
through  her  mind  she  rummaged  up  and  down 
for  some  one  conclusive  fact  that  would  close 
this  torturing  argument  for  all  time.  "  Why 
-  my  father  —  eats  with  his  knife,"  she  as 
serted  triumphantly. 

"Would  he  be  apt  to  eat  with  mine?" 
asked  the  Senior  Surgeon  with  extravagant 
gravity. 

Precipitously  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
jumped  to  the  defense  of  her  father's  intrinsic 
honor.  "  Oh,  no ! "  she  denied  with  some 

165 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

vehemence.  "  Father 's  never  cheeky  like 
that !  Father  's  simple  Sometimes, —  plain,  I 
mean.  Or  he  might  be  a  bit  sharp.  But,  oh, 
I'm  sure  he'd  never  be — cheeky!  Oh,  no, 
sir!  No!" 

"  Oh,  very  well  then,"  grinned  the  Senior 
Surgeon.  "  We  can  consider  everything  all 
comfortably  settled  then  I  suppose?" 

"  No,  we  can't ! "  screamed  the  White 
Linen  Nurse.  A  little  awkwardly  with 
cramped  limbs  she  struggled  partly  upward 
from  the  grass  and  knelt  there  defying  the 
Senior  Surgeon  from  her  temporarily  superior 
height.  "No,  we  can't!"  she  reiterated 
wildly.  "  I  tell  you  I  can't,  sir !  I  won't ! 
I  won't !  I  Ve  been  engaged  once  and  it 's 
enough!  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  'm  all  engaged  out!  " 

"  What 's  become  of  the  man  you  were  en 
gaged  to  ? "  quizzed  the  Senior  Surgeon 
sharply. 

« Why  —  he's  married!"  said  the  White 
Linen  Nurse.  "  And  they  Ve  got  a  kid !  "  she 
added  tempestuously. 

"Good!     I'm    glad    of    it!"    smiled    the 
Senior  Surgeon  quite  amazingly.     "  Now  he 
surely  won't  bother  us  any  more." 
1 66 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"But  I  was  engaged  so  long!"  protested 
the  White  Linen  Nurse.  "  Almost  ever  since 
I  was  born,  I  said.  It 's  too  long.  You  don't 
get  over  it !  " 

"  He  got  over  it,"  remarked  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  laconically.  - 

"  Y-e-s,"  admitted  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 
"  But  I  tell  you  it  does  n't  seem  decent.  Not 
after  being  engaged  —  twenty  years !  "  With 
a  little  helpless  gesture  of  appeal  she  threw 
out  her  hands.  "  Oh,  can't  I  make  you  un 
derstand,  sir?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,  I  understand,"  said  the 
Senior  Surgeon  briskly.  "  You  mean  that 
you  and  John  — " 

"  His  name  was  '  Joe/ '  corrected  the 
White  Linen  Nurse. 

With  astonishing  amiability  the  Senior 
Surgeon  acknowledged  the  correction. 
"  You  mean,"  he  said,  "  you  mean  that  you 
and  —  Joe  —  have  been  cradled  together  so 
familiarly  all  your  babyhood  that  on  your 
wedding  night  you  could  most  naturally  have 
said  '  Let  me  see  —  Joe, —  it 's  two  pillows 
that  you  always  have,  is  n't  it  ?  And  a  double- 
fold  of  blanket  at  the  foot? '  You  mean  that 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

you  and  Joe  have  been  washed  and  scrubbed 
together  so  familiarly  all  your  young  child 
hood  that  you  could  identify  Joe's  headless 
body  twenty  years  hence  by  the  kerosene- 
lamp  scar  across  his  back?  You  mean  that 
you  and  Joe  have  played  house  together  so 
familiarly  all  your  young  tin-dish  days  that 
even  your  rag  dolls  called  Joe  '  Father '  ? 
You  mean  that  since  your  earliest  memory, — 
until  a  year  or  so  ago, —  Life  has  never  once 
been  just  You  and  Life,  but  always  You  and 
Life  and  Joe?  You  and  Spring  and  Joe, 
— •  You  and  Summer  and  Joe, —  You  and 
Autumn  and  Joe, —  You  and  Winter  and 
Joe, —  till  every  conscious  nerve  in  your  body 
has  been  so  everlastingly  Joed  with  Joe's 
Joeness  that  you  don't  believe  there  's  any  ex 
perience  left  in  life  powerful  enough  to  eradi 
cate  that  original  impression  ?  Eh  ?  " 

"Yes,     sir,"     flushed     the     White     Linen 
Nurse. 

"Good!  I'm  glad  of  it!"  snapped  the 
Senior  Surgeon.  "  It  does  n't  make  you  seem 
quite  so  alarmingly  innocent  and  remote  for 
a  widower  to  offer  marriage  to.  Good,  I 
say !  I  'm  glad  of  it !  " 
1 68 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Even  so  —  I  don't  want  to,"  said  the 
White  Linen  Nurse.  "  Thank  you  very 
much,  sir!  But  even  so,  I  don't  want 
to." 

"  Would  you  marry  —  Joe  —  now  if  he 
were  suddenly  free  and  wanted  you?"  asked 
the  Senior  Surgeon  bluntly. 

"  Oh,  my  Lord,  no!  "  said  the  White  Linen 
Nurse. 

"Other  men  are  pretty  sure  to  want  you," 
admonished  the  Senior  Surgeon.  "  Have 
you  made  up  your  mind  —  definitely  that 
you  '11  never  marry  anybody  ?  " 

"  N — o,  not  exactly,"  confessed  the  White 
Linen  Nurse. 

An  odd  flicker  twitched  across  the  Senior 
Surgeon's  face  like  a  sob  in  the  brain. 

"  What 's  your  first  name,  Miss  Mal- 
gregor?"  he  asked  a  bit  huskily. 

"  Rae,"  she  told  him  with  some  surprise. 

The  Senior  Surgeon's  eyes  narrowed  sud 
denly  again. 

"  Damn  it  all,  Rae,"  he  said,  "I  —  want 
you!" 

Precipitously     the     White     Linen     Nurse 
scrambled  to  her  feet.     "If  you  don't  mind, 
169 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

sir,"  she  cried,  "  I  '11  run  down  to  the  brook 
and  get  myself  a  drink  of  water ! " 

Impishly  like  a  child,  muscularly  like  a 
man,  the  Senior  Surgeon  clutched  out  at  the 
flapping  corner  of  her  coat. 

"  No  you  don't!  "  he  laughed,  "  till  you  've 
given  me  my  definite  answer  —  yes  or  no!" 

Breathlessly  the  White  Linen  Nurse  spun 
round  in  her  tracks.  Her  breast  was  heaving 
with  ill-suppressed  sobs.  Her  eyes  were 
blurred  with  tears.  "  You  've  no  business  — 
to  hurry  me  so !  "  she  protested  passionately. 
"  It  is  n't  fair !—  It  is  n't  kind !  " 

Sluggishly  in  the  Senior  Surgeon's  jolted 
arms  the  Little  Girl  woke  from  her  feverish 
nap  and  peered  up  perplexedly  through  the 
gray  dusk  into  her  father's  face. 

"Where's — my  kitty?"  she  asked  hazily. 

"  Eh  ?  "  jerked  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

Harshly  the  little  iron  leg-braces  clanked 
together. 

In  an  instant  the  White  Linen  Nurse  was 
on  her  knees  in  the  grass.  "  You  don't  hold 
her  right,  sir!"  she  expostulated.  Deftly 
with  little  soft,  darting  touches,  interrupted 
only  by  rubbing  her  knuckles  into  her  own 
170 


Precipitously  the  White  Linen  Nurse  scrambled  to  her  feet. 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

tears,  she  reached  out  and  eased  successively 
the  bruise  of  a  buckle  or  the  dragging  weight 
on  a  little  cramped  hip. 

Still  drowsily,  still  hazily,  with  little  smack 
ing  gasps  and  gulping  swallows,  the  child 
worried  her  way  back  again  into  conscious 
ness. 

"  All  the  birds  were  there,  Father,"  she 
droned  forth  feebly  from  her  sweltering 
mink-fur  nest. 


All  the  birds  were  there 
With  yellow   feathers   instead  of  —  hair, 
And  bumble  bees  —  and  bumble  bees  — 
And  bumble  bees?  —  And  bumble  bees  —  ? 


Frenziedly  she  began  to  burrow  the  back  of 
her  head  into  her  Father's  shoulder.  "  And 
bumble  bees?  —  And  bumble  bees  —  ?  " 

"  Oh,  for  Heaven's  sake  — '  buzzed  '  in  the 
trees ! "  interpolated  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

Rigidly  from  head  to  foot  the  little  body 
in  his  arms  stiffened  suddenly.  As  one  who 
saw  the  supreme  achievement  of  a  life-time 
swept  away  by  some  one  careless  joggle  of  an 
infinitesimal  part,  the  Little  Girl  stared  up 
agonizingly  into  her  father's  face.  "  Oh,  I 
171 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

don't  think  — *  buzzed  '  was  the  word !  "  she 
began  convulsively.  "  Oh,  I  don't  think  — !  " 

Startlingly  through  the  twilight  the  Senior 
Surgeon  felt  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  rose- 
red  lips  come  smack  against  his  ear. 

"  Darn  you !  Can't  you  say  '  crocheted  ' 
in  the  trees  ?  "  sobbed  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Grotesquely  for  an  instant  the  Senior  Sur 
geon's  eyes  and  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  eyes 
glared  at  each  other  in  frank  antagonism. 

Then  suddenly  the  Senior  Surgeon  burst 
out  laughing.  "  Oh,  very  well !  "  he  surren 
dered.  "  '  Crocheted  in  the  trees  ' !  " 

Precipitously  the  White  Linen  Nurse  sank 
back  on  her  heels  and  began  to  clap  her  hands. 

"  Oh,  now  I  will!  Now  I  will!  "  she  cried 
exultantly. 

"Will  what?"  frowned  the  Senior  Sur 
geon. 

Abruptly  the  White  Linen  Nurse  stopped 
clapping  her  hands  and  began  to  wring  them 
nervously  in  her  lap  instead.  "  Why  —  will 
—  will !  "  she  confessed  demurely. 

"  Oh ! "  jumped  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
"Oh!"  Then  equally  jerkily  he  began  to 
pucker  his  eyebrows.  "  But  for  Heaven's 
172 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

sake  —  what 's  the  *  crocheted  in  the  trees  ' 
got  to  do  with  it?  "  he  asked  perplexedly. 

"  Nothing  much,"  mused  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  very  softly.  With  sudden  alertness  she 
turned  her  curly  blonde  head  towards  the  road. 
"  There  's  somebody  coming !  "  she  said.  "  I 
hear  a  team !  " 

Overcome  by  a  bash  fulness  that  tried  to 
escape  in  jocosity,  the  Senior  Surgeon  gave 
an  odd  little  choking  chuckle. 

"  Well,  I  never  thought  I  should  marry  a 
—  trained  nurse!"  he  acknowledged  with 
somewhat  hectic  blitheness. 

Impulsively  the  White  Linen  Nurse  reached 
for  her  watch  and  lifted  it  close  to  her  twi 
light-blinded  eyes.  A  sense  of  ineffable  peace 
crept  suddenly  over  her. 

"You  won't,  sir!"  she  said  amiably. 

"  It 's  twenty  minutes  of  nine,  now.  And 
the  graduation  was  at  eight !  " 


173 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FOR  any  real  adventure  except  dying,  June 
is  certainly  a  most  auspicious  month. 
Indeed  it  was  on  the  very  first  rain-green, 
rose-red    morning    of    June    that    the    White 
Linen  Nurse  sallied  forth  upon  her  extremely 
hazardous  adventure  of  marrying  the  Senior 
Surgeon  and  his  naughty  little  crippled  daugh 
ter. 

The  wedding  was  at  noon  in  some  kind  of 
a  gray  granite  church.  And  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  was  there,  of  course, —  and  the  neces 
sary  witnesses.  But  the  Little  Crippled  Girl 
never  turned  up  at  all,  owing  —  it  proved  later, 
-  to  a  more  than  usually  violent  wrangle 
with  whomever  dressed  her,  concerning  the 
general  advisability  of  sporting  turquoise-col 
ored  stockings  with  her  brightest  little  purple 
dress. 

The    Senior    Surgeon's    stockings,    if    you 
really    care   to    know,    were    gray.     And   the 
Senior    Surgeon's    suit    was    gray.     And    he 
174 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

looked  altogether  very  huge  and  distinguished, 
—  and  no  more  strikingly  unhappy  than  any 
bridegroom  looks  in  a  gray  granite  church. 

And  the  White  Linen  Nurse, —  no  longer 
now  truly  a  White  Linen  Nurse  but  just  an 
ordinary,  every-day,  silk-and-cloth  lady  of 
any  color  she  chose,  wore  something  rather 
coat-y  and  grand  and  bluish,  and  was  dis- 
tractingly  pretty  of  course  but  most  essen 
tially  unfamiliar, —  and  just  a  tiny  bit  awk 
ward  and  bony-wristed  looking, —  as  even  an 
Admiral  is  apt  to  be  on  his  first  day  out  of 
uniform. 

Then  as  soon  as  the  wedding  ceremony  was 
over,  the  bride  and  groom  went  to  a  wonder 
ful  green  and  gold  cafe  all  built  of  marble  and 
lined  with  music,  and  had  a  little  lunch. 
What  I  really  mean,  of  course,  is  that  they 
had  a  very  large  lunch,  but  did  n't  eat  any  of 
it! 

Then  in  a  taxi-cab,  just  exactly  like  any 
other  taxi-cab,  the  White  Linen  Nurse  drove 
home  alone  to  the  Senior  Surgeon's  great, 
gloomy  house  to  find  her  brand  new  step 
daughter  still  screaming  over  the  turquoise 
colored  stockings. 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

And  the  Senior  Surgeon  in  a  Canadian- 
bound  train,  just  exactly  like  any  other  Cana 
dian-bound  train,  started  off  alone, —  as  usual, 
on  his  annual  June  "  spree." 

Please  don't  think  for  a  moment  that  it 
was  the  Senior  Surgeon  who  was  responsible 
for  the  general  eccentricities  of  this  amazing 
wedding  day.  No  indeed !  The  Senior  Sur 
geon  did  n't  want  to  be  married  the  first 
day  of  June!  He  said  he  didn't!  He 
growled  he  didn't!  He  snarled  he  didn't! 
He  swore  he  did  n't !  And  when  he 
finished  saying  and  growling  and  snarling 
and  swearing, —  and  looked  up  at  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  for  a  confirmation  of  his  opinion, 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  smiled  perfectly 
amiably  and  said,  "  Yes,  sir !  " 

Then  the  Senior  Surgeon  gave  a  great  gasp 
of  relief  and  announced  resonantly,  "  Well,  it 's 
all  settled  then?  We  '11  be  married  some  time 
in  July, —  after  I  get  home  from  Canada?" 
And  when  the  White  Linen  Nurse  kept  on 
smiling  perfectly  amiably  and  said,  "  Oh,  no, 
sir !  Oh,  no,  thank  you,  sir !  It  would  n't 
seem  exactly  legal  to  me  to  be  married  any 
other  month  but  June!"  Then  the  Senior 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Surgeon  went  absolutely  dumb  with  rage  that 
this  mere  chit  of  a  girl, —  and  a  trained  nurse, 
too, —  should  dare  to  thwart  his  personal  and 
professional  convenience.  But  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  just  drooped  her  pretty  blonde 
head  and  blushed  and  blushed  and  blushed 
and  said,  "  I  was  only  marrying  you,  sir,  to 
—  accommodate  you  —  sir, —  and  if  June 
doesn't  accommodate  you  —  I'd  rather  go 
to  Japan  with  that  monoideic  somnambulism 
case.  It 's  very  interesting.  And  it  sails 
June  second."  Then  "Oh,  Hell  with  the 
"  monoideic  somnambulism  case  ' !  "  the  Senior 
Surgeon  would  protest. 

Really  it  took  the  Senior  Surgeon  quite  a 
long  while  to  work  out  the  three  special  argu 
ments  that  should  best  protect  him,  he 
thought,  from  the  horridly  embarrassing  idea 
of  being  married  in  June. 

"  But  you  can't  get  ready  so  soon !  "  he 
suggested  at  last  with  real  triumph. 
'*  You  've  no  idea  how  long  it  takes  a  girl 
to  get  ready  to  be  married!  There  are  so 
many  people  she  has  to  tell, —  and  every 
thing!" 

'  There  's  never  but  two  that  she  's  got  to 
177 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

tell  —  or  bust !  "  conceded  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  with  perfect  candor.  "  Just  the 
woman  she  loves  the  most  —  and  the  woman 
she  hates  the  worst.  I  '11  write  my  mother 
to-morrow.  But  I  told  the  Superintendent  of 
Nurses  yesterday." 

"  The  deuce  you  did !  "  snapped  the  Senior 
Surgeon. 

Almost  caressingly  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
lifted  her  big  blue  eyes  to  his.  "  Yes,  sir," 
she  said,  "  and  she  looked  as  sick  as  a  young 
undertaker.  I  can't  imagine  what  ailed  her." 

"  Eh?  "  choked  the  Senior  Surgeon.  "  But 
the  house  now,"  he  hastened  to  contend. 
"The  house  now  needs  a  lot  of  fixing  over! 
It 's  all  run  down !  It 's  all  —  everything ! 
We  never  in  the  world  could  get  it  into  shape 
by  the  first  of  June !  For  Heaven's  sake,  now 
that  we  've  got  money  enough  to  make  it 
right,  let 's  go  slow  and  make  it  perfectly 
right!" 

A  little  nervously  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
began  to  fumble  through  the  pages  of  her 
memorandum  book.  "  I  Ve  always  had 
money  enough  to  '  go  slow  and  make  things 
perfectly  right,'  "  she  confided  a  bit  wist- 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

fully.  "  Never  in  all  my  life  have  I  had  a 
pair  of  boots  that  were  n't  guaranteed,  or  a 
dress  that  would  n't  wash,  or  a  hat  that 
was  n't  worth  at  least  three  re-pressings. 
What  I  was  hoping  for  now,  sir,  was  that  I 
was  going  to  have  enough  money  so  that 
I  could  go  fast  and  make  things  wrong  if  I 
wanted  to, — so  that  I  could  afford  to  take 
chances,  I  mean.  Here 's  this  wall-paper 
now," — tragically  she  pointed  to  some  figur 
ing  in  her  note-book  — "  it 's  got  peacocks  on 
it  —  life  size — in  a  queen's  garden  —  and  I 
wanted  it  for  the  dining-room.  Maybe  it 
would  fade !  Maybe  we  'd  get  tired  of  it ! 
Maybe  it  would  poison  us!  Slam  it  on  one 
week  —  and  slash  it  off  the  next !  I  wanted 
it  just  because  I  wanted  it,  sir!  I  thought 
maybe  —  while  you  were  way  off  in  Can 
ada—" 

Eagerly  the  Senior  Surgeon  jerked  his 
chair  a  little  nearer  to  his  —  fiancee's. 

"  Now,  my  dear  girl,"  he  said.  "  That 's 
just  what  I  want  to  explain!  That's  just 
what  I  want  to  explain !  Just  what  I  want  to 
explain !  To  —  er  —  explain !  "  he  continued 
a  bit  falteringly. 

179 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

;<  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Very  deliberately  the  Senior  Surgeon  re 
moved  a  fleck  of  dust  from  one  of  his 
cuffs. 

"  All  this  talk  of  yours  —  about  wanting  to 
be  married  the  same  day  I  start  off  on  my  - 
Canadian  trip !  "  he  contended.     "  Why,  it 's 
all  damned  nonsense !  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Very  conscientiously  the  Senior  Surgeon 
began  to  search  for  a  fleck  of  dust  on  his  other 
cuff. 

"  Why  my  —  my  dear  girl,"  he  persisted. 
"  It 's  absurd !  It 's  outrageous !  Why  peo 
ple  would  —  would  hoot  at  us !  Why  they  'd 
think  —  !" 

"  Yes,  sir/'  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

"  Why,  my  dear  girl,"  sweated  the  Senior 
Surgeon.  "  Even  though  you  and  I  under 
stand  perfectly  well  the  purely  formal,  busi 
ness-like  conditions  of  our  marriage,  we  must 
at  least  for  sheer  decency's  sake  keep  up  a 
certain  semblance  of  marital  conventionality 
—  before  the  world!  Why,  if  we  were  mar 
ried  at  noon  the  first  day  of  June  —  as  you 
suggest, —  and  I  should  go  right  off  alone  as 
1 80 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

usual  —  on  my  Canadian  trip — and  you 
should  come  back  alone  to  the  house  —  why, 
people  would  think  —  would  think  that  I 
did  n't  care  anything  about  you !  " 

"But  you  don't,"  said  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  serenely. 

"Why,  they'd  think,"  choked  the  Senior 
Surgeon.  ''They'd  think  you  were  trying 
your  —  darndest  —  to  get  rid  of  me!" 

"  I  am,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse  com 
placently. 

With  a  muttered  ejaculation  the  Senior 
Surgeon  jumped  to  his  feet  and  stood  glaring 
down  at  her. 

Quite  ingenuously  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
met  and  parried  the  glare. 

"  A  gentleman  —  and  a  red-haired  kiddie 
—  and  a  great  walloping  house  —  all  at 
once!  It's  too  much!"  she  confided  gen 
ially.  "Thank  you  just  the  same,  but  I'd 
rather  take  them  gradually.  First  of  all,  sir, 
you  see,  I  Ve  got  to  teach  the  little  kiddie  to 
like  me!  And  then  there's  a  green-tiled 
paper  with  floppity  sea  gulls  on  it  —  that  I 
want  to  try  for  the  bath-room!  And  —  and 
Ecstatically  she  clapped  her  hands  to- 
181 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

gather.  "  Oh,  sir !  There  are  such  loads  and 
loads  of  experiments  I  want  to  try  while  you 
are  off  on  your  spree !  " 

"  S — h — h  !  "  cried  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
His  face  was  suddenly  blanched, —  his  mouth, 
twitching  like  the  mouth  of  one  stricken  with 
almost  insupportable  pain.  "  For  God's  sake, 
Miss  Malgregor !  "  he  pleaded,  "  can't  you  call 
it  my  —  Canadian  trip?" 

Wider  and  wider  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
opened  her  big  blue  eyes  at  him. 

"But  it  is  a  'spree,'  sir!"  she  attested 
resolutely.  "  And  my  father  says  -  Still 
resolutely  her  young  mouth  curved  to  its  orig 
inal  assertion,  but  from  under  her  heavy- 
shadowing  eyelashes  a  little  blue  smile  crept 
softly  out.  "  When  my  father  's  got  a  lame 
trotting  horse,  sir,  that  he  's  trying  to  shuck 
off  his  hands,"  she  faltered,  "  he  does  n't  ever 
go  round  mourn ful-like  with  his  head  hang 
ing —  telling  folks  about  his  wonderful  trot 
ter  that 's  just  '  the  littlest,  teeniest,  tiniest  bit 
-lame.'  Oh  no!  What  father  does  is  to 
call  up  every  one  he  knows  within  twenty 
miles  and  tell  'em,  '  Say  Tom, —  Bill,— 
Harry/ — or  whatever  his  name  is  — -'what 
182 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

in  the  deuce  do  you  suppose  I  've  got  over  here 
in  my  barn?  A  lame  horse  —  that  wants  to 
trot!  Lamer  than  the  deuce,  you  know! 
But  can  do  a  mile  in  2.40.'  "  Faintly  the 
little  blue  smile  quickened  again  in  the  White 
Linen  Nurse's  eyes.  "And  the  barn  will  be 
full  of  men  in  half  an  hour!"  she  said. 
"  Somehow  nobody  wants  a  trotter  that 's 
lame!  But  almost  anybody  seems  willing  to 
risk  a  lame  horse  —  that 's  plucky  enough  to 
trot!" 

"  What 's  the  '  lame  trotting  horse  '  got  to 
do  with  —  me  ?  "  snarled  the  Senior  Surgeon 
incisively. 

Darkly  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  lashes 
fringed  down  across  her  cheeks. 

"Nothing  much,"  she  said,  "Only—" 

"  Only  what  ?  "  demanded  the  Senior  Sur 
geon.  A  little  more  roughly  than  he  realized 
he  stooped  down  and  took  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  by  her  shoulders,  and  jerked  her 
sharply  round  to  the  light.  "Only  what?" 
he  insisted  peremptorily. 

Almost  plaintively  she  lifted  her  eyes  to 
his.  "  Only  —  my  father  says,"  she  con 
fided  obediently,  "  my  father  says  if  you  've 

183 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

got  a  worse  foot  —  for  Heaven's  sake  put  it 
forward  —  and  get  it  over  with ! 

"So  — I've  got  to  call  it  a  'spree'!" 
smiled  the  White  Linen  Nurse.  "  'Cause 
when  I  think  of  marrying  a  —  surgeon 

—  that  goes  off  and  gets  drunk  every  June 

—  it  —  it    scares    me    almost    to    my    death ! 
But — "     Abruptly  the  red  smile  faded  from 
her  lips,  the  blue  smile  from  her  eyes.     "  But 

—  when  I  think  of  marrying  a  —  June  drunk 

—  that 's  got  the  grit  to   pull  up   absolutely 
straight    as    a    die    and    be    a    surgeon  —  all 
the    other    'leven    months    in    the    year — " 
Dartingly    she    bent    down    and    kissed    the 
Senior    Surgeon's    astonished    wrist.     "  Oh, 
then   I   think   you  're   perfectly   grand! "   she 
sobbed. 

Awkwardly  the  Senior  Surgeon  pulled  away 
and  began  to  pace  the  floor. 

"  You  're  a  —  good  little  girl,  Rae  Mal- 
gregor,"  he  mumbled  huskily.  "  A  good  little 
girl.  I  truly  believe  you  're  the  kind  that 
will  —  see  me  through."  Poignantly  in  his 
eyes  humiliation  overwhelmed  the  mist.  Per 
versely  in  its  turn  resentment  overtook  the 
humiliation.  "  But  I  won't  be  married  in 
184 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

June ! "  he  reasserted  bombastically.  "  I 
won't!  I  won't!  I  won't!  I  tell  you  I 
positively  refuse  to  have  a  lot  of  damn  fools 
speculating  about  my  private  affairs!  Won 
dering  why  I  did  n't  take  you !  Wondering 
why  I  did  n't  stay  home  with  you !  I  tell  you 
I  won't!  I  simply  won't!  " 

"Yes,  sir,"  stammered  the  White  Linen 
Nurse. 

With  a  real  gasp  of  relief  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  stopped  his  eternal  pacing  of  the  floor. 

"  Bully  for  you !  "  he  said.  "  You  mean 
then  we  '11  be  married  some  time  in  July  after 
I  get  back  from  my  —  trip?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  sir,"  stammered  the  White  Linen 
Nurse. 

"But  Great  Heavens!"  shouted  the  Senior 
Surgeon. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  the  White  Linen  Nurse  began 
all  over  again.  Dreamily  planning  out  her 
wedding  gown,  her  lips  without  the  slightest 
conscious  effort  on  her  part  were  already 
curving  into  shape  for  her  alternate  "  No, 
sir." 

"  You  're  an  idiot !  "  snapped  the  Senior 
Surgeon. 

185 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

A  little  reproachfully  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  came  frowning  out  of  her  reverie. 
"  Would  it  do  just  as  well  for  traveling,  do 
you  think?"  she  asked,  with  real  concern. 

"Eh?     What?"  said  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"  I  mean  —  does  Japan  spot  ?  "  queried 
the  White  Linen  Nurse.  "  Would  it  spot  a 
serge,  I  mean?" 

"  Oh,  Hell  with  Japan!  "  jerked  the  Senior 
Surgeon. 

''  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Now  perhaps  you  will  understand  just  ex 
actly  how  it  happened  that  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  and  the  White  Linen  Nurse  were 
married  on  the  first  day  of  June,  and  just  ex 
actly  how  it  happened  that  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  went  off  alone  as  usual  on  his  Canadian 
trip,  and  just  exactly  how  it  happened  that  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  came  home  alone  to  the 
Senior  Surgeon's  great,  gloomy  house,  to  find 
her  brand  new  step-daughter  still  screaming 
over  the  turquoise-colored  stockings.  Every 
thing  now  is  perfectly  comfortably  explained 
except  the  turquoise-colored  stockings.  No 
body  could  explain  the  turquoise-colored 
stockings ! 

1 86 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

But  even  a  little  child  could  explain  the  en 
suing  June!  Oh,  June  was  perfectly  wonder 
ful  that  year!  Bud,  blossom,  bird-song, 
breeze, —  rioting  headlong  through  the  Land. 
Warm  days  sweet  and  lush  as  a  green-house 
vapor!  Crisp  nights  faintly  metallic  like  the 
scent  of  stars !  Hurdy-gurdies  romping  tune 
fully  on  every  street-corner!  Even  the  Ash- 
Man  flushing  frankly  pink  across  his  dusty 
cheek-bones ! 

Like  two  fairies  who  had  sublet  a  giant's 
cave  the  White  Linen  Nurse  and  the  Little 
Crippled  Girl  turned  themselves  loose  upon 
the  Senior  Surgeon's  gloomy  old  house. 

It  certainly  was  a  gloomy  old  house,  but 
handsome  withal, —  square  and  brown  and 
substantial,  and  most  generously  gardened 
within  high  brick  walls.  Except  for  dusting 
the  lilac  bushes  with  the  hose,  and  weeding  a 
few  rusty  leaves  out  of  the  privet  hedge,  and 
tacking  up  three  or  four  scraggly  sprays  of 
English  ivy,  and  re-greening  one  or  two  bay- 
tree  boxes,  there  was  really  nothing  •  much  to 
do  to  the  garden.  But  the  house?  Oh  ye 
gods!  All  day  long  from  morning  till  night, 
—  but  most  particularly  from  the  back  door 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

to  the  barn,  sweating  workmen  scuttled  back 
and  forth  till  nary  a  guilty  piece  of  black  wal 
nut  furniture  had  escaped.  All  day  long  from 
morning  till  night, — but  most  particularly 
from  ceilings  to  floors,  sweltering  workmen 
scurried  up  and  down  step-ladders  stripping 
dingy  papers  from  dingier  plasterings. 

When  the  White  Linen  Nurse  was  n't 
busy  renovating  the  big  house — or  the  little 
step-daughter,  she  was  writing  to  the  Senior 
Surgeon.  She  wrote  twice. 

"Dear  Dr.  Faber,"  the  first  letter  said. 

DEAR  DR.  FABER, 

How  do  you  do?  Thank  you  very  much  for  saying 
you  did  n't  care  what  in  thunder  I  did  to  the  house.  It 
looks  sweet.  I  Ve  put  white  fluttery  muslin  curtains 
most  everywhere.  And  you  Ve  got  a  new  solid-gold- 
looking  bed  in  your  room.  And  the  Kiddie  and  I  have 
fixed  up  the  most  scrumptious  light  blue  suite  for  our 
selves  in  the  ell.  Pink  was  wrong  for  the  front  hall,  but 
it  cost  me  only  $29.00  to  find  out.  And  now  that  's  settled 
for  all  time. 

I  am  very,  very,  very,  very  busy.  Something  strange 
and  new  happens  every  day.  Yesterday  it  was  three  ladies 
and  a  plumber.  One  of  the  ladies  was  just  selling  soap,  but 
I  did  n't  buy  any.  It  was  horrid  soap.  The  other  two 
were  calling  ladies, — a  silk  one  and  a  velvet  one.  The 
silk  one  tried  to  be  nasty  to  me.  Right  to  my  face  she 
told  me  I  was  more  of  a  lady  than  she  had  dared  to  hope. 
And  I  told  her  I  was  sorry  for  that  as  you  'd  had  one  "lady" 
and  it  did  n't  work.  Was  that  all  right?  But  the  other 

1 88 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

lady  was  nice.  And  I  took  her  out  in  the  kitchen  with  me 
while  I  was  painting  the  woodwork,  and  right  there  in  her 
white  kid  gloves  she  laughed  and  showed  me  how  to  mix  the 
paint  pearl  gray.  She  was  nice.  It  was  your  sister-in- 
law. 

I  like  being  married,  Dr.  Faber.  I  like  it  lots  better 
than  I  thought  I  would.  It  's  fun  being  the  biggest  per 
son  in  the  house.  Respectfully  yours, 

RAE  MALGREGOR, — AS  WAS. 

P.S. 

Oh,  I  hope  it  was  n't  wrong,  but  in  your  ulster  pocket, 
when  I  went  to  put  it  away,  I  found  a  bottle  of  something 
that  smelt  as  though  it  had  been  forgotten.  —I  threw 
it  out. 


It  was  this  letter  that  drew  the  only  definite 
message  from  the  itinerant  bridegroom. 

"Kindly  refrain  from  rummaging  in  my 
ulster  pockets,"  wrote  the  Senior  Surgeon 
quite  briefly.  "The  'thing'  you  threw  out 
happened  to  be  the  cerebellum  and  medulla 
of  an  extremely  eminent  English  Theolo 
gian!" 

"Even  so, — it  was  sour,"  telegraphed  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  in  a  perfect  agony  of 
remorse  and  humiliation. 

The  telegram  took  an  Indian  with  a  birch 

canoe  two  days  to  deliver,  and  cost  the  Senior 

Surgeon  twelve  dollars.     Just  impulsively  the 

Senior  Surgeon  decided  to  make  no  further 

189 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

comments  on  domestic  affairs, —  at  that  par 
ticular  range. 

Very  fortunately  for  this  impulse  the  White 
Linen  Nurse's  second  letter  concerned  itself 
almost  entirely  with  matters  quite  extraneous 
to  the  home. 

"  Dear  Dr.  Faber,"  the  second  letter  ran. 

DEAR  DR.  FABER, 

Somehow  I  don't  seem  to  care  so  much  just  now  about 
being  the  biggest  person  in  the  house.  Something  awful 
has  happened.  Zillah  Forsyth  is  dead.  Really  dead,  I 
mean.  And  she  died  in  great  heroism.  You  remember 
Zillah  Forsyth,  don't  you?  She  was  one  of  my  room 
mates, —  not  the  gooder  one,  you  know, —  not  the 
swell,— that  was  Helene  Churchill.  But  Zillah?  Oh 
you  know!  Zillah  was  the  one  you  sent  out  on  that 
Fractured  Elbow  case.  It  was  a  Yale  student,  you  re 
member?  And  there  was  some  trouble  about  kissing, 

—  and    she    got    sent    home?     And    now    everybody's 
crying   because   Zillah    can't  kiss    anybody   any   more! 
Is  n't   everything   the   limit  ?     Well,   it   was  n't   a    frac 
tured  Yale  student  she  got  sent  out  on  this  time.     If 
it   had   been,   she  might   have  been    living  yet.    What 
they  sent  her  out  on  this  time  was  a  Senile  Dementia, 

—  an  ol-d  lady  more  than  eighty  years  old.    And  they 
were    in    a    sanitarium    or    something   like    that.    And 
there  was  a  fire  in  the  night.    And  the  old  lady  just 
up  and  positively  refused  to  escape.    And   Zillah   had 
to  push  her  and   shove  her  and  yank  her   and  carry 
her  —  out     the     window  —  along    the     gutters  —  round 
the    chimneys.    And    the    old    lady    bit    Zillah    right 
through  the  hand, —  but  Zillah  wouldn't  let  go.     And 
the   old    lady  tried   to   drown    Zillah   under   a  bursted 
water  tank, —  but  Zillah  wouldn't  let  go.     And  every- 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

body  hollered  to  Zillah  to  cut  loose  and  save  herself, 

—  but   Zillah   wouldn't   let  go.    And  a   wall   fell,   and 
everything,  and  oh,  it  was  awful, —  but  Zillah  never  let 
go.     And  the  old  lady  that  was  n't  any  good  to  any  one, 

—  not  even  herself,  got  saved  of  course.     But  Zillah? 
Oh,  Zillah  got  hurt  bad,  sir!     We  saw  her  at  the  hos 
pital,  Helene  and  I.     She  sent  for  us  about  something. 
Oh,  it  was  awful !     Not  a  thing  about  her  that  you  'd 
know  except  just  her  great  solemn  eyes  mooning  out 
at   you  through  a   gob   of   white  cotton,   and   her   red 
mouth  lipping  sort  of  twitchy  at  the  edge  of  a  bandage. 
Oh  it  was  awful !     But  Zillah  did  n't  seem  to  care  so 
much.    There  was  a  new   Interne  there, —  a  Japanese, 
and  I  guess  she  was  sort  of  taken  with  him.     "  But  my 
God,  Zillah,"  I  said,  "your  life  was  worth  more  than 
that  old  dame's  !  " 

"  Shut  your  noise !  "  says  Zillah.  "  It  was  my  job. 
And  there  's  no  kick  coming."  Helene  burst  right  out 
crying,  she  did.  "  Shut  your  noise,  too ! "  says  Zil 
lah,  just  as  cool  as  you  please.  "Bah!  There's  other 
lives  and  other  chances  !  " 

"  Oh,  you  do  believe  that  now  ? "  cries  Helene. 
"Oh,  you  do  believe  that  now, —  what  the  Bible 
promises  you  ? "  That  was  when  Zillah  shrugged  her 
shoulders  so  funny,— the  little  way  she  had.  Gee,  but 
her  eyes  were  big !  "  I  don't  pretend  to  know  —  what 

—  your    old    Bible    says,"    she    choked.     "  It    was  —  the 
Yale  feller  —  who  was  tellin'  me." 

That 's  all,  Dr.  Faber.  It  was  her  shrugging  her 
shoulders  so  funny  that  brought  on  the  hemorrhage. 

Oh,  we  had  an  awful  time,  sir,  going  home  in  the 
carriage,— Helene  and  I.  We  both  cried,  of  course, 
because  Zillah  was  dead,  but  after  we  got  through  cry 
ing  for  that,  Helene  kept  right  on  crying  because  she 
couldn't  understand  why  a  brave  girl  like  Zillah  had 
to  be  dead.  Gee!  But  Helene  takes  things  hard. 
Ladies  do,  I  guess. 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

I  hope  you  're  having  a  pleasant  spree. 

Oh,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  one  of  the  wall-paperers 
is  living  here  at  the  house  with  us  just  now.  We  use 
him  so  much  it 's  truly  a  good  deal  more  convenient. 
And  he's  a  real  nice  young  fellow,  and  he  plays  the 
piano  finely,  and  he  comes  from  up  my  way.  And  it 
seemed  more  neighborly  anyway.  It's  so  large  in  the 
house  at  night,  just  now,  and  so  creaky  in  the  garden. 

With  kindest  regards,  good-by  for  now,  from 

RAE. 
P.  S. 

Don't  tell  your  guide  or  any  one!  But  Helene 
sent  Zillah's  mother  a  check  for  fifteen  hundred  dollars. 
I  saw  it  with  my  own  eyes.  And  all  Zillah  asked  for 
that  day  was  just  a  little  blue  serge  suit.  It  seems 
she'd  promised  her  kid  sister  a  little  blue  serge  suit 
for  July.  And  it  sort  of  worried  her. 

Helene  sent  the  little  blue  serge  suit  too!  And  a 
hat!  The  hat  had  bluebells  on  it.  Do  you  think 
when  you  come  home  — if  I  haven't  spent  too  much 
money  on  wall-papers  —  that  I  could  have  a  blue  hat 
with  bluebells  on  it?  Excuse  me  for  bothering  you  — 
but  you  forgot  to  leave  me  enough  money. 

It  was  some  indefinite,  pleasant  time  on 
Thursday,  the  twenty-fifth  of  June,  that  the 
Senior  Surgeon  received  this  second  letter. 

It  was  Friday  the  twenty-sixth  of  June,  ex 
actly  at  dawn,  that  the  Senior  Surgeon  started 
homeward. 

Nobody  looks  very  well  in  the  dawn.  Cer 
tainly  the  Senior  Surgeon  did  n't.  Heavily  as 
a  man  wading  through  a  bog  of  dreams,  he 
192  * 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

stumbled  out  of  his  cabin  into  the  morning. 
Under  his  drowsy,  brooding  eyes  appalling 
shadows  circled.  Behind  his  sunburn, — 
deeper  than  his  tan,  something  sinister  and  un 
canny  lurked  wanly  like  the  pallor  of  a  soul. 

Yet  the  Senior  Surgeon  had  been  most 
blamelessly  abed  and  asleep  since  griddle- 
cake  time  the  previous  evening. 

Only  the  mountains  and  the  forest  and  the 
lake  had  been  out  all  night.  For  seventy 
miles  of  Canadian  wilderness  only  the  moun 
tains  and  the  forest  and  the  lake  stood  ac 
tually  convicted  of  having  been  out  all  night. 
Dank  and  white  with  its  vaporous  vigil  the 
listless  lake  kindled  wanly  to  the  new  day's 
breeze.  Blue  with  cold  a  precipitous  moun 
tain  peak  lurched  craggedly  home  through  a 
rift  in  the  fog.  Drenched  with  mist,  be 
draggled  with  dew,  a  green-feathered  pine 
tree  lay  guzzling  insatiably  at  a  leaf-brown 
pool.  Monotonous  as  a  sob  the  waiting  birch 
canoe  slosh-sloshed  against  the  beach. 

There  was  no  romantic  smell  of  red  roses 

in  this  June  landscape.     Just  tobacco  smoke, 

and  the  faint  reminiscent  fragrance  of  fried 

trout,    and    the    mournful,    sizzling,    pungent 

193 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

consciousness  of  a  camp-fire  quenched  for  a 
whole  year  with  a  tinful  of  wet  coffee 
grounds. 

Gliding  out  cautiously  into  the  lake  as 
though  the  mere  splash  of  a  paddle  might  shat 
ter  the  whole  glassy  surface,  the  Indian  Guide 
propounded  the  question  that  was  uppermost 
in  his  mind. 

"  Cutting  your  trip  a  bit  short  this  year, — 
ain't  you,  Boss  ?  "  quizzed  the  Indian  guide. 

Out  from  his  muffling  mackinaw  collar  the 
Senior  Surgeon  parried  the  question  with  an 
amazingly  novel  sense  of  embarrassment. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  he  answered  with 
studied  lightness.  "  There  are  one  or  two 
things  at  home  that  are  bothering  me  a  little." 

"A  woman,  eh?"  said  the  Indian  Guide 
laconically. 

"A  woman?"  thundered  the  Senior  Sur 
geon.  "  A  —  woman  ?  Oh,  ye  gods !  No ! 
It's  wall  paper!" 

Then  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  in  the 
midst  of  his  passionate  refutation  the  Senior 
Surgeon  burst  out  laughing, —  boisterously, 
hilariously  like  a  crazy  school-boy.  Bluntly 
from  an  overhanging  ledge  of  rock  the  echo 
194 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

of  his  laugh  came  mocking  back  at  him. 
Down  from  some  unvisioned  mountain  fast 
ness  the  echo  of  that  echo  came  wafting 
faintly  to  him. 

The  Senior  Surgeon's  laugh  was  made  of 
teeth  and  tongue  and  palate  and  a  purely  con 
vulsive  physical  impulse.  But  the  echo's 
laugh  was  a  phantasy  of  mist  and  dawn  and 
inestimable  balsarn-scented  spaces  where  little 
green  ferns  and  little  brown  beasties  and  soft- 
breasted  birdlings  frolicked  eternally  in  pris 
tine  sweetness. 

Seven  miles  further  down  the  lake,  at  the 
beginning  of  the  rapids,  the  Indian  Guide 
spoke  again.  Racking  the  canoe  between 
two  rocks, —  paddling,  panting,  pushing, 
sweating,  the  Indian  Guide  lifted  his  voice 
high, —  piercing,  above  the  swirling  roar  of 
waters. 

"  Eh,  Boss !  "  shouted  the  Indian  Guide. 
"  I  ain't  never  heard  you  laugh  before !  " 

Neither  man  spoke  again  more  than  once  or 
twice  during  the  long,  strenuous  hours  that 
were  left  to  them. 

The   Indian   Guide   was   very   busy   in   his 
stolid  mind  trying  to  figure  out  just  how  many 
195 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

rows  of  potatoes  could  be  planted  fruitfully 
between  his  front  door  and  his  cow-shed.  I 
don't  know  what  the  Senior  Surgeon  was  try 
ing  to  figure  out. 

It  was  just  four  days  later  from  a  rolling, 
musty-cushioned  hack  that  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  disembarked  at  his  own  front  gate. 

Even  though  a  man  likes  home  no  better 
than  he  likes — tea,  few  men  would  deny  the 
soothing  effect  of  home  at  the  end  of  a  long 
fussy  railroad  journey.  Five  o'clock,  also,  of 
a  late  June  afternoon  is  a  peculiarly  won 
derful  time  to  be  arriving  home, — especially 
if  that  home  has  a  garden  around  it  so  that 
you  are  thereby  not  rushed  precipitously 
upon  the  house  itself,  as  upon  a  cup  without 
a  saucer,  but  can  toy  visually  with  the  whole 
effect  before  you  quench  your  thirst  with  the 
actual  draught. 

Very,  very  deliberately,  with  his  clumsy 
rod-case  in  one  hand,  and  his  heavy  grip  in 
the  other,  the  Senior  Surgeon  started  up  the 
long,  broad  gravel  path  to  the  house.  For  a 
man  walking  as  slow  as  he  was,  his  heart  was 
beating  most  extraordinarily  fast.  He  was 
not  accustomed  to  heart-palpitation.  The 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

symptom  worried  him  a  trifle.  Incident 
ally  also  his  lungs  felt  strangely  stifled  with 
the  scent  of  June.  Close  at  his  right  an 
effulgent  white  and  gold  syringa  bush 
flaunted  its  cloying  sweetness  into  his  senses. 
Close  at  his  left  a  riotous  bloom  of  phlox 
clamored  red-blue-purple-lavender-pink  into 
his  dazzled  vision.  Multi-colored  pansies 
tiptoed  velvet-footed  across  the  grass.  In 
soft  murky  mystery  a  flame-tinted  smoke  tree 
loomed  up  here  and  there  like  a  faintly 
rouged  ghost.  Over  everything,  under 
everything,  through  everything,  lurked  a 
certain  strange,  novel,  vibrating  conscious 
ness  of  occupancy.  Bees  in  the  rose  bushes! 
Bobolinks  in  the  trees!  A  woman's  work- 
basket  in  the  curve  of  the  hammock!  A 
doll's  tea  set  sprawling  cheerfully  in  the 
middle  of  the  broad  gravel  path! 

It  was  not  until  the  Senior  Surgeon  had  act 
ually  stepped  into  the  tiny  cream  pitcher  that 
he  noticed  the  presence  of  the  doll's  tea  set. 

It  was  what  the  Senior  Surgeon  said  as  he 
stepped  out  of  the  cream  pitcher  that  sum 
moned  the  amazing  apparition  from  a  ragged 
green  hole  in  the  privet  hedge.  Startlingly 
197 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

white,  startlingly  professional, —  dress,  cap, 
apron  and  all, —  a  miniature  white  linen  nurse 
sprang  suddenly  out  at  him  like  a  tricky  dwarf 
in  a  moving  picture  show.  Just  at  that  par 
ticular  moment  the  Senior  Surgeon's  nerves 
were  in  no  condition  to  wrestle  with  appari 
tions.  Simultaneously  as  the  clumsy  rod-case 
dropped  from  his  hand,  the  expression  of  en 
thusiasm  dropped  from  the  face  of  the  minia 
ture  white  linen  nurse. 

"Oh,  dear  —  oh,  dear  —  oh,  dear!  Have 
you  come  home?"  wailed  the  familiar,  shrill 
little  voice. 

Sheepishly  the  Senior  Surgeon  picked  up  his 
rod-case.  The  noises  in  his  head  were  crash 
ing  like  cracked  bells.  Desperately  with  a 
boisterous  irritability  he  sought  to  cover  also 
the  lurching  pound-pound-pound  of  his  heart. 

"  What  in  Hell  are  you  rigged  out  like  that 
for?"  he  demanded  stormily. 

With  equal  storminess  the  Little  Girl  pro 
tested  the  question. 

"  Peach  said  I  could !  "  she  attested  passion 
ately.  "  Peach  said  I  could !  She  did !  She 
did !  I  tell  you  I  did  n't  want  her  to  marry 
us  —  that  day!  I  was  afraid,  I  was!  I 
198 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

cried,  I  did!  I  had  a  convulsion!  They 
thought  it  was  stockings!  So  Peach  said  if  it 
would  make  me  feel  any  gooderer,  I  could  be 
the  cruel  new  step-mother.  And  she  'd  be  the 
un-loved  offspring  —  with  her  hair  braided  all 
yellow  fluffikins  down  her  back !  " 

"  Where  is  —  Miss  Malgregor?  "  asked  the 
Senior  Surgeon  sharply. 

Irrelevantly  the  Little  Girl  sank  down  on 
the  gravel  walk  and  began  to  gather  up  her 
scattered  dishes. 

"And  it's  fun  to  go  to  bed  —  now,"  she 
confided  amiably.  "  'Cause  every  night  I  put 
Peach  to  bed  at  eight  o'clock  and  she 's  so 
naughty  always  I  have  to  stay  with  her !  And 
then  all  of  a  sudden  it's  morning  —  like  go 
ing  through  a  black  room  without  know 
ing  it!" 

"I  said  —  where  is  Miss  Malgregor ?"  re 
peated  the  Senior  Surgeon  with  increasing 
sharpness. 

Thriftily  the  Little  Girl  bent  down  to  lap 
a  bubble  of  cream  from  the  broken  pitcher. 

"  Oh,  she  's  out  in  the  summer  house  with 
the  Wall  Paper  Man,"  she  mumbled  indiffer 
ently. 

199 


CHAPTER  IX 

ALTOGETHER  jerkily  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  started  up  the  walk  for  his  own 
perfectly  formal  and  respectable  brown  stone 
mansion.  Deep  down  in  his  lurching  heart  he 
felt  a  sudden  most  inordinate  desire  to  reach 
that  brown  stone  mansion  just  as  quickly  as 
possible.  But  abruptly  even  to  himself  he 
swerved  off  instead  at  the  yellow  sassafras 
tree  and  plunged  quite  wildly  through  a  mass 
of  broken  sods  towards  the  rickety,  no-ac 
count  cedar  summer  house. 

Startled  by  the  crackle  and  thud  of  his  ap 
proach  the  two  young  figures  in  the  summer 
house  jumped  precipitously  to  their  feet,  and 
limply  untwining  their  arms  from  each  other's 
necks  stood  surveying  the  Senior  Surgeon  in 
unspeakable  consternation, —  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  and  a  blue  overalled  lad  most  uncon 
scionably  mated  in  radiant  youth  and  agonized 
confusion. 

"  Oh,  my  Lord,   Sir !  "   gasped  the  White 

200 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Linen  Nurse.     "  Oh,  my  Lord,  Sir  !     I  was  n't 
looking  for  you  —  for  another  week !  " 

"  Evidently  not!"  said  the  Senior  Surgeon 
incisively.  "  This  is  the  second  time  this 
evening  that  I  've  been  led  to  infer  that  my 
home-coming  was  distinctly  inopportune!" 

Very  slowly,  very  methodically,  he  put 
down  first  his  precious  rod-case  and  then  his 
grip.  His  brain  seemed  fairly  foaming  with 
blood  and  confusion.  Along  the  swelling 
veins  of  his  arms  a  dozen  primitive  instincts 
went  surging  to  his  fists. 

Then  quite  brazenly  before  his  eyes  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  reached  out  and  took  the 
lad's  hand  again. 

"Oh,  forgive  me,  Dr.  Faber!"  she  fal 
tered.  "  This  is  my  brother !  " 

"Your  brother?  — what?— eh?"  choked 
the  Senior  Surgeon.  Bluntly  he  reached  out 
and  crushed  the  young  fellow's  fingers  in  his 
own.  "  Glad  to  see  you,  Son !  "  he  muttered 
with  a  sickish  sort  of  grin,  and  turning 
abruptly,  picked  up  his  baggage  again  and 
started  for  the  big  house. 

Half  a  step  behind  him  his  White  Linen 
Bride  followed  softly. 

201 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

At  the  edge  of  the  piazza  he  turned  for  an 
instant  and  eyed  her  a  bit  quizzically.  With 
her  big  credulous  blue  eyes,  and  her  great 
mop  of  yellow  hair  braided  childishly  down 
her  back,  she  looked  inestimably  more  juvenile 
and  innocent  than  his  own  little  shrewd-faced 
six-year-old  whom  he  had  just  left  domestic 
ally  ensconced  in  the  middle  of  the  broad 
gravel  path. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Miss  Malgregor,"  he 
asked.  "  For  Heaven's  sake  —  why  did  n't 
you  tell  me  that  the  Wall  Paper  Man  was 
your  —  brother?" 

Very  contritely  the  White  Linen  Nurse's 
chin  went  burrowing  down  into  the  soft  col 
lar  of  her  dress  and  as  bashfully  as  a  child 
one  finger  came  stealing  up  to  the  edge  of  her 
red,  red  lips. 

"  I  was  afraid  you  'd  think  I  was  —  cheeky 
—  having  any  of  my  family  come  and  live 
with  us  —  so  soon,"  she  murmured  almost  in- 
audibly. 

"  Well,  what  did  you  think  I  'd  think  you 
were  —  jf  he  wasn't  your  brother?"    asked 
the  Senior  Surgeon  sardonically. 
202 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

'  Very  —  economical,    I    hoped !  "    beamed 
the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

"  All  the  same !  "  snapped  the  Senior  Sur 
geon,  with  an  irrelevance  surprising  even  to 
himself.  "All  the  same  do  you  think  it 
sounds  quite  right  and  proper  for  a  child  to 
call  her  —  step-mother  — '  Peach  '  ?  " 

Again  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  chin  went 
burrowing  down  into  the  soft  collar  of  her 
dress.  "I  don't  suppose  it  is — usual,"  she 
admitted  reluctantly.  "  The  children  next 
door,  I  notice,  call  theirs  — '  Cross-Patch.'  " 

With  a  gesture  of  impatience  the  Senior 
Surgeon  proceeded  up  the  steps, —  yanked 
open  the  old-fashioned  shuttered  door,  and 
burst  quite  breathlessly  and  unprepared  upon 
his  most  amazingly  reconstructed  house.  All 
in  one  single  second  chintzes, —  muslins, — 
pale  blonde  maples, —  riotous  canary  birds, — 
stormed  revolutionary  upon  his  outraged 
eyes.  Reeling  back  utterly  aghast  before  the 
sight,  he  stood  there  staring  dumbly  for  an 
instant  at  what  he  considered, —  and  rightly 
too, —  the  absolute  wreck  of  his  black  walnut 
home. 

203 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"It  looks  like— Hell!"  he  muttered 
feebly. 

"Yes,  isn't  it  sweet?"  conceded  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  with  unmistakable  joyousness. 
"And  your  library — "  Triumphantly  she 
threw  back  the  door  to  his  grim  work-shop. 

"Good  God!"  stammered  the  Senior  Sur 
geon.     ' '  You  '  ve   made   it— pink ! ' ' 
^  Rapturously  the  White  Linen  Nurse  began 
to  clasp  and  unclasp  her  hands.     "I  knew 
you'd  love  it!"  she  said. 

Half  dazed  with  bewilderment  the  Senior 
Surgeon  started  to  brush  an  imaginary  haze 
from  his  eyes  but  paused  mid-way  in  the 
gesture  and  pointed  back  instead  to  a  dapper 
little  hall-table  that  seemed  to  be  exhausting 
its  entire  blonde  strength  in  holding  up  a 
slender  green  vase  with  a  single  pink  rose  in  it. 
Like  a  caged  animal  buffeting  for  escape 
against  each  successive  bar  that  incased  it, 
the  man's  frenzied  irritation  hurled  itself 
hopefully  against  this  one  more  chance  for 
explosive  exit. 

"What — have — you — done — with  the  big 
—black— escritoire  that  stood— there?"  he 
demanded  accusingly. 

204 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

' '  Escrit  oire  ? — Escritoire  ? ' '  worried  the 
White  Linen  Nurse.  "Why — why — I  'm 
afraid  I  must  have  mislaid  it. " 

"Mislaid  it?"  thundered  the  Senior  Sur 
geon.  "Mislaid  it?  It  weighed  three 
hundred  pounds!" 

"Oh,  it  did?"  questioned  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  with  great,  blue-eyed  interest.  Still 
mulling  apparently  over  the  fascinating 
weight  of  the  escritoire  she  climbed  up  sud 
denly  into  a  chair  and  with  the  fluffy  broom- 
shaped  end  of  her  extraordinarily  long  braid 
of  hair  went  angling  wildy  off  into  space  after 
an  illusive  cobweb. 

Faster  and  faster  the  Senior  Surgeon's  tem 
per  began  to  search  for  a  new  point  of  exit. 

"What  do  you  suppose  the  —  servants 
think  of  you?"  he  stormed.  "Running 
round  like  that  with  your  hair  in  a  pig-tail 
like  a— kid?" 

"Servants? "  cooed  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 
1  '  Servants  ? ' '  Very  quietly  she  j  umped  down 
from  the  chair  and  came  and  stood  looking 
up  into  the  Senior  Surgeon's  hectic  face. 
"Why,  there  aren't  any  servants,"  she  ex 
plained  patiently.  "I  've  dismissed  every  one 
205 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

of  them.     We  're  doing  our  own  work  now !  " 

"  Doing  '  our  own  work  '  ?  "  gasped  the 
Senior  Surgeon. 

Quite  worriedly  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
stepped  back  a  little.  "  Why,  was  n't  that 
right?"  she  pleaded.  "Wasn't  it  right? 
Why,  I  thought  people  always  did  their  own 
work  when  they  were  first  married !  "  With 
sudden  apprehensiveness  she  glanced  round 
over  her  shoulder  at  the  hall  clock,  and  dart 
ing  out  through  a  side  door,  returned  almost 
instantly  with  a  fierce-looking  knife. 

"  I  'm  so  late  now  and  everything,"  she 
confided.  "  Could  you  peel  the  potatoes 
forme?" 

"  No,  I  could  n't !  "  said  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  shortly.  Equally  shortly  he  turned  on 
his  heel,  and  reaching  out  once  more  for  his 
rod-case  and  grip  went  on  up  the  stairs  to  his 
own  room. 

One  of  the  pleasantest  things  about  arriving 
home  very  late  in  the  afternoon  is  the  excuse 
it  gives  you  for  loafing  in  your  own  room 
while  other  people  are  getting  supper.  No  ex 
istent  domestic  sound  in  the  whole  twenty- four 
hours  is  as  soothing  at  the  end  of  a  long  jour- 
206 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

ney  as  the  sound  of  other  people  getting  sup 
per. 

Stretched  out  full  length  in  a  big  easy  chair 
by  his  bed-room  window,  with  his  favorite  pipe 
bubbling  rhythmically  between  his  gleaming 
white  teeth,  the  Senior  Surgeon  studied  his 
new  "  solid  gold  bed  "  and  his  new  sage  green 
wall-paper  and  his  new  dust-colored  rug,  to 
the  faint,  far-away  accompaniment  of  soft 
thudding  feet,  and  a  girl's  laugh,  and  a  child's 
prattle,  and  the  tink-tink-tinkle  of  glass, — 
china, —  silver, —  all  scurrying  consciously  to 
the  service  of  one  man, —  and  that  man,— 
himself. 

Very,  very  slowly,  in  that  special  half  hour 
an  inscrutable  little  smile  printed  itself  ex 
perimentally  across  the  right  hand  corner  of 
the  Senior  Surgeon's  upper  lip. 

While  that  smile  was  still  in  its  infancy  he 
jumped  up  suddenly  and  forced  his  way  across 
the  hall  to  his  dead  wife's  room, —  the  one 
ghost-room  of  his  house  and  his  life, —  and 
there  with  his  hand  on  the  turning  door  knob, 
—  tense  with  reluctance, —  goose-fleshed  with 
strain, —  his  breath  gasped  out  of  him  whether 
or  no  with  the  one  word  — "  Alice !  " 
207 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

And  behold!  There  was  no  room 
there ! 

Lurching  back  from  the  threshold,  as  from 
the  brink  of  an  elevator  well,  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  found  himself  staring  foolishly  into  a 
most  sumptuous  linen  closet,  tiered  like  an 
Aztec  cliff  with  home  after  home  for  pleasant 
prosy  blankets,  and  gaily  fringed  towels,  and 
cheerful  white  sheets  reeking  most  conscien 
tiously  of  cedar  and  lavender.  Tiptoeing 
cautiously  into  the  mystery  he  sensed  at  one 
astonished,  grateful  glance  how  the  change  of 
a  partition,  the  re-adjustment  of  a  proportion, 
had  purged  like  a  draft  of  fresh  air  the  stale 
gloom  of  an  ill-favored  memory.  Yet  so  in 
evitable  did  it  suddenly  seem  for  a  linen  closet 
to  be  built  right  there, —  so  inevitable  did 
it  suddenly  seem  for  the  child's  meager  play 
room  to  be  enlarged  just  there,  that  to 
save  his  soul  he  could  not  estimate  whether 
the  happy  plan  had  originated  in  a  purely 
practical  brain  or  a  purely  compassionate 
heart. 

Half  proud  of  the  brain,  half  touched  by  the 
heart,  he  passed  on  exploringly  through  the 
new  play-room  out  into  the  hall  again. 
208 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Quite  distinctly  now  through  the  aperture 
of  the  back  stairs  the  kitchen  voices  came 
wafting  up  to  him. 

"Oh,  dear!  Oh,  dear!"  wailed  his  Little 
Girl's  peevish  voice.  "  Now  that  —  that 
Man  's  come  back  again  —  I  suppose  we  '11 
have  to  eat  in  the  dining-room  —  all  the 
time !  " 

'  That  Man '  happens  to  be  your  darling 
father ! "  admonished  the  White  Linen 
Nurse's  laughing  voice. 

"Even  so,"  wailed  the  Little  Girl,  "I  love 
you  best." 

"  Even  so,"  laughed  the  White  Linen  Nurse, 
"  I  love  you  best !  " 

"Just  the  same,"  cried  the  Little  Girl 
shrilly,  "just  the  same  —  let's  put  the  cream 
pitcher  way  up  high  somewhere  —  so  he  can't 
step  in  it !  " 

As  though  from  a  head  tilted  suddenly  back 
ward  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  laugh  rang  out 
in  joyous  abandon. 

Impulsively  the  Senior  Surgeon  started  to 

grin.     Then     equally     impulsively     the     grin 

soured  on  his  lips.     So  they  thought  he  was 

clumsy  ?     Eh  ?     Resentfully  he  stared  down  at 

209 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

his  hands, —  those  wonderfully  dexterous, — 
yes,  ambidexterous  hands  that  were  the  ach 
ing  envy  of  all  his  colleagues.  Inter ruptingly 
as  he  stared  the  voice  of  the  young  Wall  Pa 
per  Man  rose  buoyantly  from  the  lower  hall 
way. 

"  Supper  's  all  ready,  sir !  "  called  the  cordial 
voice. 

For  some  inexplainable  reason,  at  that  par 
ticular  moment,  almost  nothing  in  the  world 
could  have  irritated  the  Senior  Surgeon  more 
keenly  than  to  be  invited  to  his  own  supper, — 
in  his  own  house, —  by  a  stranger.  Fuming 
with  a  new  sense  of  injury  and  injustice  he 
started  heavily  down  the  stairs  to  the  dining- 
room. 

Standing  patiently  behind  the  Senior  Sur 
geon's  chair  with  a  laudable  desire  to  assist 
his  carving  in  any  possible  emergency  that 
might  occur,  the  White  Linen  Nurse  experi 
enced  her  first  direct  marital  rebuff. 

"  What  do  you  think  this  is  ?  An  au 
topsy  ?  "  demanded  the  Senior  Surgeon  tartly. 
"  For  Heaven's  sake  —  sit  down !  " 

Quite  meekly  the  White  Linen  Nurse  sub 
sided  into  her  place. 

210 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

The  meal  that  ensued  could  hardly  have 
been  called  a  success  though  the  room  was 
entrancing, —  the  cloth,  snow-white  —  the  sil 
ver,  radiant, —  the  guinea  chicken  beyond  re 
proach. 

Swept  and  garnished  to  an  alarming  degree 
the  young  Wall  Paper  Man  presided  over  the 
gravy  and  did  his  uttermost,  innocent  country- 
best  to  make  the  Senior  Surgeon  feel  perfectly 
at  home. 

Conscientiously,  as  in  the  presence  of  a  dis 
tinguished  stranger,  the  Little  Crippled  Girl 
most  palpably  from  time  to  time  repressed  her 
insatiable  desire  to  build  a  towering  pyramid 
out  of  all  the  salt  and  pepper  shakers  she 
could  reach. 

Once  when  the  young  Wall  Paper  Man  for 
got  himself  to  the  extent  of  putting  his  knife 
in  his  mouth,  the  White  Linen  Nurse  jarred 
the  whole  table  with  the  violence  of  her  warn 
ing  kick. 

Once  when  the  Little  Crippled  Girl  piped 
out  impulsively,  "  Say,  Peach, —  what  was  the 
name  of  that  bantam  your  father  used  to  fight 
against  the  minister's  bantam?"  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  choked  piteously  over  her  food. 
211 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Twice  some  one  spoke  about  this  year's 
weather. 

Twice  some  one  volunteered  an  illuminat 
ing  remark  about  last  year's  weather. 

Except  for  these  four  diversions  restraint 
indescribable  hung  like  a  horrid  pall  over  the 
feast. 

Next  to  feeling  unwelcome  in  your  friend's 
house,  nothing  certainly  is  more  wretchedly 
disconcerting  than  to  feel  unwelcome  in  your 
own  house! 

Grimly  the  Senior  Surgeon  longed  to  grab 
up  all  the  knives  within  reach  and  ram  them 
successively  into  his  own  mouth  just  to  prove 
to  the  young  Wall  Paper  Man  what  a — what 
a  devil  of  a  good  fellow  he  was  himself! 
Grimly  the  Senior  Surgeon  longed  to  tell  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  about  the  pet  bantam  of 
his  own  boyhood  days — that  he  bet  a  dollar 
could  lick  any  bantam  her  father  ever  dreamed 
of  owning!  Grimly  the  Senior  Surgeon 
longed  to  talk  dolls, — dishes, — kittens, — yes, 
even  cream  pitchers,  to  his  Little  Daughter, 
to  talk  anything  in  fact — to  any  one, — to 
talk — sing — shout  anything — that  should 
make  him,  at  least  for  the  time  being,  one  at 

212 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

heart,  one  at  head,  one  at  table,  with  this 
astonishingly    offish    bunch    of    youngsters! 

But  grimly  instead, — out  of  his  frazzled 
nerves, — out  of  his  innate  spiritual  bashful- 
ness,  he  merely  roared  forth,  "  Where  are  the 
potatoes?" 

''Potatoes?"  gasped  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  " Potatoes?  Oh,  potatoes?"  she 
finished  more  blithely.  ' '  Why,  yes,  of  course ! 
Don't  you  remember— you  did  n't  have  time 
to  peel  them  for  me?  I  was  so  disappointed ! " 

"You  were  so  disappointed?"  snapped  the 
Senior  Surgeon.  ' '  You  ? — you  ? ' ' 

Janglingly  the  Little  Crippled  Girl  knelt 
right  up  in  her  chair  and  shook  her  tiny  fist 
right  in  her  father's  face. 

"Now,  Lendicott  Faber!"  she  screamed. 
"Don't  you  start  in — sassing — my  darling 
little  Peach!" 

"Peach?"  snorted  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
With  almost  supernatural  calm  he  put  down 
his  knife  and  fork  and  eyed  his  offspring  with 
an  expression  of  absolutely  inflexible  purpose. 
"Don't  you — ever,"  he  warned  her,  "ever 
•—ever — let  me  hear  you  call — this  woman 
Teach '  again!" 

213 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

A  trifle  faint-heartedly  the  Little  Crippled 
Girl  reached  up  and  straightened  her  absurdly 
diminutive  little  white  cap,  and  pursed  her 
little  mouth  as  nearly  as  possible  into  an  ex 
pression  of  ineffable  peace. 

"  Why  —  Lendicott  Faber !  "  she  persisted 
heroically. 

"  Lendicott  f  jumped  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
"What  are  you — '  Lendicotting '  me  for?" 

Hilariously  with  her  own  knife  and  fork 
the  Little  Crippled  Girl  began  to  beat  upon 
the  table. 

"Why,  you  dear  Silly!"  she  cried. 
"Why,  if  I'm  the  new  Marma,  I've  got 
to  call  you  '  Lendicott  * !  And  Peach  has 
got  to  call  you  '  Fat  Father  ' !  " 

Frenziedly  the  Senior  Surgeon  pushed  back 
his  chair,  and  jumped  to  his  feet.  The  ex 
pression  on  his  face  was  neither  smile  nor 
frown,  nor  war  nor  peace,  nor  any  other  hu 
man  expression  that  had  ever  puckered  there 
before. 

"God!"  he  said.  "This  gives  me  the 
willies! "  and  strode  tempestuously  from  the 
room. 

Out  in  his  own  work-shop  fortunately,— 
214 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

whatever  the  grotesque  new  pinkness, —  what 
ever  the  grotesque  new  perkiness  —  his  great 
free  walking-spaces  had  not  been  interfered 
with.  Slamming  his  door  triumphantly  be 
hind  him,  he  resumed  once  more  the  monot 
onous  pace-pace-pace  that  had  characterized 
for  eighteen  years  his  first  night's  return  to 
—  the  'obligations  of  civilization. 

Sharply  around  the  corner  of  his  old  bat 
tered  desk  the  little  path  started, —  wanly 
along  the  edge  of  his  dingy  book-shelves  the 
little  path  furrowed, —  wistfully  at  the  deep 
bay-window  where  his  favorite  lilac  bush 
budded  whitely  for  his  departure,  and  rusted 
brownly  for  his  return,  the  little  path  fal 
tered, —  and  went  on  again, —  on  and  on  and 
on, —  into  the  alcove  where  his  instruments 
glistened, —  up  to  the  fireplace  where  his  col 
lege  trophy-cups  tarnished!  Listlessly  the 
Senior  Surgeon  re-commenced  his  yearly  vigil. 
Up  and  down, —  up  and  down, —  round  and 
round, —  on  and  on  and  on, —  through  in 
terminable  dusks  to  unattainable  dawns, —  a 
glutted,  bacchanalian  Soul  sweating  its  own 
way  back  to  sanctity  and  leanness !  Nerves 
always  were  in  that  vigil, —  raw,  rattling 
215 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

nerves  clamoring  vociferously  to  be  repacked 
in  their  sedatives.  Thirst  also  was  in  that 
vigil, —  no  mere  whimpering  tickle  of  the 
palate,  but  a  drought  of  the  tissues, —  a  con 
suming  fire  of  the  bones!  Hurt  pride  was 
also  there,  and  festering  humiliation ! 

But  more  rasping,  this  particular  night, 
than  nerves,  more  poignant  than  thirst,  more 
dangerously  excitative  even  than  remorse,  hun 
ger  rioted  in  him, —  hunger,  the  one  worst 
enemy  of  the  Senior  Surgeon's  cause, —  the 
simple,  silly,  no-account, —  gnawing, —  drink- 
provocative  hunger  of  an  empty  stomach. 
And  one  other  hunger  was  also  there, —  a  sud 
den  fierce  new  lust  for  Life  and  Living, —  a 
passion  bare  of  love  yet  pure  of  wantonness, 

—  a    passion    primitive, —  protective, —  inex 
orably  proprietary, —  engendered  strangely  in 
that  one  mad,  suspicious  moment  at  the  edge 
of  the  summer  house  when   every   outraged 
male  instinct  in  him  had  leaped  to  prove  that 

—  love  or  no  love  —  the  woman  was  —  his. 
Up  and  down, —  up  and  down, —  round  and 

round, —  eight  o'clock  found  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  still  pacing. 

216 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

At  half  past  eight  the  young  Wall  Paper 
Man  came  to  say  good-by  to  him. 

"  As  long  as  Sister  won't  be  alone  any 
more,  I  guess  I  '11  be  moving  on,"  beamed 
the  Wall  Paper  Man.  "  There  's  a  dance  at 
home  Saturday  night.  And  I  've  got  a  girl 
of  my  own !  "  he  confided  genially. 

"  Come  again,"  urged  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
"Come  again  when  you  can  stay  longer!" 

With  one  honest  prayer  in  stock,  and  at  least 
two  purely  automatic  social  speeches  of  this 
sort,  no  man  needs  to  flounder  altogether  hope 
lessly  for  words  in  any  ordinary  emergency 
of  life.  Thus  with  no  more  mental  interrup 
tion  than  the  two-minute  break  in  time,  the 
Senior  Surgeon  then  resumed  his  bitter- 
thoughted  pacing. 

At  nine  o'clock,  however, —  patroling  his 
long  rangy  book-shelves,  he  sensed  with  a  very 
different  feeling  through  his  heavy  oak  door, 
the  soft  whirring  swish  of  skirts  and  the 
breathy  twitter  of  muffled  voices.  Faintly  to 
his  acute  ears  came  the  sound  of  his  little 
daughter's  temperish  protest,  "  I  won't !  I 
won't !  "  and  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  fervid 
217 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

pleading,  "  Oh,  you  must, —  you  must !  "  and 
the  Little  Girl's  mumbled  ultimatum,  "Well, 
I  won't  unless  you  do !  " 

Irascibly  he  crossed  the  room  and  yanked 
the  door  open  abruptly  upon  their  surprise 
and  confusion.  His  nerves  were  very  sore. 

"  What  in  thunder  do  you  want  ? "  he 
snarled. 

Nervously  for  an  instant  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  tugged  at  the  Little  Girl's  hand.  Nerv 
ously  for  an  instant  the  Little  Girl  tugged  at 
the  White  Linen  Nurse's  hand.  Then  with  a 
swallow  like  a  sob  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
lifted  her  glowing  face  to  his. 

«K— kiss  us  good  night!"  said  the  White 
Linen  Nurse. 

Telescopically  all  in  that  startling  second, 
vision  after  vision  beat  down  like  blows  upon 
the  Senior  Surgeon's  senses!  The  pink,  pink 
flush  of  the  girl!  The  lure  of  her!  The 
amazing  sweetness !  The  physical  docility ! 
Oh  ye  gods, —  the  docility!  Every  trend  of 
her  birth, —  of  her  youth, —  of  her  training, — 
forcing  her  now  —  if  he  chose  it  —  to  un 
questioning  submission  to  his  will  and  his 
judgment!  Faster  and  faster  the  temptation 
218 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

surged  through  his  pulses!  The  path  from 
her  lips  to  her  ear  was  such  a  little  path, —  the 
plea  so  quick  to  make,  so  short, — "  I  want  you 
now! " 

"  K — kiss  us  good  night !  "  urged  the  Big 
Girl's  unsuspecting  lips.  "  Kiss  us  good 
night ! "  mocked  the  Little  Girl's  tremulous 
echo. 

Then  explosively  with  the  noblest  rudeness 
of  his  life,  "No,  I  won't!"  said  the  Senior 
Surgeon,  and  slammed  the  door  in  their  faces. 

Falteringly  up  the  stairs  he  heard  the  two 
ascending, —  speechless  with  surprise,  perhaps, 

—  stunned  by  his  roughness, —  still   hand  in 
hand,    probably, —  still    climbing    slowly    bed- 
ward, —  the  soft,  smooth,  patient  foot-fall  of 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  and  the  jerky,  labori 
ous  clang-clang-clang  of  a  little  dragging  iron- 
braced  leg. 

Up  and  down, —  round  and  round, —  on  and 
on  and  on, —  the  Senior  Surgeon  resumed  his 
pacing.  Under  his  eyes  great  shadows  dark 
ened.  Along  the  corners  of  his  mouth  the 
lines  furrowed  like  gray  scars.  Up  and  down, 

—  round  and  round, —  on  and  on  and  on  — 
and  on ! 

219 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

At  ten  o'clock,  sitting  bolt  upright  in  her 
bed  with  her  worried  eyes  straining  bluely  out 
across  the  Little  Girl's  somnolent  form  into 
unfathomable  darkness,  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  in  the  throb  of  her  own  heart  began  to 
keep  pace  with  that  faint,  horrid  thud-thud- 
thud  in  the  room  below.  Was  he  passing  the 
book-case  now?  Had  he  reached  the  bay- 
window?  Was  he  dawdling  over  those  glis 
tening  scalpels?  Would  his  nerves  remember 
the  flask  in  that  upper  desk  drawer  ?  Up  and 
down, —  round  and  round, —  on  and  on, —  the 
harrowing  sound  continued. 

Resolutely  at  last  she  scrambled  out  of  her 
snug  nest,  and  hurrying  into  her  great  warm, 
pussy-gray  wrapper  began  at  once  very  prac 
tically,  very  unemotionally,  with  matches  and 
alcohol  and  a  shiny  glass  jar  to  prepare  a  huge 
steaming  cup  of  malted  milk.  Beef-steak  was 
infinitely  better,  she  knew,  or  eggs,  of  course, 
but  if  she  should  venture  forth  to  the  kitchen 
for  real  substantiate  the  Senior  Surgeon,  she 
felt  quite  positive,  would  almost  certainly  hear 
her  and  stop  her.  So  very  stealthily  thus  like 
the  proverbial  assassin  she  crept  down  the 
front  stairs  with  the  innocent  malted  milk  cup 
220 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

in  her  hand,  and  then  with  her  knuckles  just 
on  the  verge  of  rapping  against  the  grimly  in 
hospitable  door,  went  suddenly  paralyzed  with 
uncertainty  whether  to  advance  or  retreat. 

Once  again  through  the  sombre  inert  wains 
coting,  exactly  as  if  a  soul  had  creaked,  the 
Senior  Surgeon  sensed  the  threatening,  in 
trusive  presence  of  an  unseen  personality. 
Once  again  he  strode  across  the  room  and 
jerked  the  door  open  with  terrifying  anger 
and  resentment. 

As  though  frozen  there  on  his  threshold  by 
ner  own  little  bare  feet, — as  though  strangled 
there  in  his  doorway  by  her  own  great  mop  of 
golden  hair, — stolid  and  dumb  as  a  pink- 
cheeked  graven  image  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  thrust  the  cup  out  awkwardly  at  him. 

Absolutely  without  comment,  as  though  she 
trotted  on  purely  professional  business  and  the 
case  involved  was  of  mutual  concern  to  them 
both,  the  Senior  Surgeon  took  the  cup  from  her 
hand  and  closed  the  door  again  in  her  face. 

At  eleven  o'clock  she  came  again, — just  as 
pink, — just  as  blue, — just  as  gray, — just  as 
golden.  And  the  cup  of  malted  milk  she 
brought  with  her  was  just  as  huge, — just  as 

221 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

hot, —  just  as  steaming, —  only  this  time  she 
had  smuggled  two  raw  eggs  into  it. 

Once  more  the  Senior  Surgeon  took  the  cup 
without  comment  and  shut  the  door  in  her 
face. 

At  twelve  o'clock  she  came  again.  The 
Senior  Surgeon  was  unusually  loquacious  this 
time. 

"  Have  you  any  more  malted  milk?"  he 
asked  tersely. 

"Oh,  yes,  sir!"  beamed  the  White  Linen 
Nurse. 

"  Go  and  get  it ! "  said  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

Obediently  the  White  Linen  Nurse  pattered 
up  the  stairs  and  returned  with  the  half 
depleted  bottle.  Frankly  interested  she  re- 
crossed  the  threshold  of  the  room  and  deliv 
ered  her  glass  treasure  into  the  hands  of  the 
Senior  Surgeon  as  he  stood  by  his  desk. 
Raising  herself  to  her  tiptoes  she  noted  with 
eminent  satisfaction  that  the  three  big  cups  on 
the  other  side  of  the  desk  had  all  been  drained 
to  their  dregs. 

Then  very  bluntly  before  her  eyes  the  Senior 
Surgeon  took  the  malted  milk  bottle  and 
poured  its  remaining  contents  out  quite  wan- 
222 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

tonly  into  his  waste  basket.  Then  equally 
bluntly  he  took  the  White  Linen  Nurse  by  the 
shoulders  and  marched  her  out  of  the  room. 

"For  God's  sake!"  he  said,  "get  out  of 
this  room !  And  stay  out !  " 

Bang!  the  big  door  slammed  behind  her. 
Like  a  snarling  fang  the  lock  bit  into  its 
catch. 

:t  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 
Even  just  to  herself  —  all  alone  there  in  the 
big  black  hall,  she  was  perfectly  polite. 
:(  Y-e-s,  sir,"  she  repeated  softly. 

With  a  slightly  sardonic  grin  on  his  face 
the  Senior  Surgeon  resumed  his  pacing.  Up 
and  down, —  round  and  round, —  on  and  on 
and  on ! 

At  one  o'clock  in  the  dull,  clammy  chill  of 
earliest  morning  he  stopped  long  enough  to 
light  his  hearthfire. 

At  two  o'clock  he  stopped  again  to  pile  on 
a  trifle  more  wood. 

At  three  o'clock  he  dallied  for  an  instant  to 
close  a  window.  The  new  day  seemed 
strangely  cold. 

At  four  o'clock,  dawn  the  wonder, —  the 
miracle, —  the  long  despaired  of, —  quickened 
223 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

wanly  across  the  East.  Then  suddenly, — 
more  like  a  phosphorescent  breeze  than  a  glow, 
the  pale,  pale  yellow  sunshine  came  wafting 
through  the  green  gloom  of  the  garden.  The 
vigil  was  over! 

Stumbling  out  into  the  shadowy  hall  to 
greet  the  new  day  and  the  new  beginning,  the 
Senior  Surgeon  almost  tripped  and  fell  over 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  sitting  all  huddled  up 
and  drowsy-eyed  in  a  little  gray  heap  on  his 
outer  threshold.  The  sensation  of  stepping 
upon  a  human  body  is  not  a  pleasant  one.  It 
smote  the  Senior  Surgeon  nauseously  through 
the  nerves  of  his  stomach. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ? "  he  fairly 
screamed  at  her. 

"  Just  keeping  you  company,  sir,"  yawned 
the  White  Linen  Nurse.  Before  her  hand 
could  reach  her  mouth  again  another  great 
childish  yawn  overwhelmed  her.  "  Just  — 
watching  with  you,  sir,"  she  finished  more  or 
less  inarticulately. 

"  Watching  with  —  me  ?  "  snarled  the  Sen 
ior  Surgeon  resentfully.  "  Why  —  should  — 
you  —  watch  —  with  —  me  ?  " 

Like  the  frightened  flash  of  a  bird  the  heavy 
224 


'What  are  you  doing  here?"  he  fairly  screamed  at  her. 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

lashes  went  swooping  down  across  the  pink 
cheeks  and  lifted  as  suddenly  again.  "  Be 
cause  you're  my  —  man!"  yawned  the  White 
Linen  Nurse. 

Almost  roughly  the  Senior  Surgeon  reached 
down  and  pulled  the  White  Linen  Nurse  to 
her  feet. 

"  God !  "  said  the  Senior  Surgeon.  In  his 
strained,  husky  voice  the  word  sounded  like  an 
oath.  Grotesquely  a  little  smile  went  scud 
ding  zig-zag  across  his  haggard  face.  With 
an  impulse  absolutely  alien  to  him  he  reached 
out  abruptly  again  and  raised  the  White  Linen 
Nurse's  hand  to  his  lips.  ff '  Good  God ' 
was  what  I  meant  —  Miss  MalgregorJ"  he 
grinned  a  bit  sheepishly. 

Quite  bruskly  then  he  turned  and  looked 
at  his  watch. 

"  I  'd  like  my  breakfast  just  as  soon  now  as 
you  can  possibly  get  it !  "  he  ordered  peremp 
torily, —  in  his  own  morbid  pathological  emer 
gency  no  more  stopping  to  consider  the  White 
Linen  Nurse's  purely  normal  fatigue,  than  he 
in  any  pathological  emergency  of  hers  would 
have  stopped  to  consider  his  own  comfort, — 
safety, —  or  even  perhaps,  life! 
225 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Joyously  then  like  a  prisoner  just  turned 
loose,  he  went  swinging  up  the  stairs  to 
recreate  himself  with  a  smoke  and  a  shave 
and  a  great,  splashing,  cold  shower-bath. 

Only  one  thing  seemed  to  really  trouble  him 
now.  At  the  top  of  the  stairs  he  stopped  for 
an  instant  and  cocked  his  head  a  bit  worriedly 
towards  the  drawing-room  where  from  some 
slow-brightening  alcove  bird-carol  after  bird- 
carol  went  fluting  shrilly  up  into  the  morn 
ing. 

"Is  that  —  those  blasted  canaries?"  he 
asked  briefly. 

Very  companionably  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
cocked  her  own  towsled  head  on  one  side  and 
listened  with  him  for  half  a  moment. 

"  Only  four  of  them  are  blasted  canaries," 
she  corrected  very  gently.  '  The  fifth  one  is 
a  paroquet  that  I  got  at  a  mark-down  because 
it  was  a  widowed  bird  and  would  n't  mate 
again." 

"Eh?"  jerked  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
and  started  for  the  kitchen. 

No  one  but  the  Senior  Surgeon  himself 
breakfasted  in  state  at  five  o'clock  that  morn- 
226 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

ing.  Snug  and  safe  in  her  crib  upstairs  the 
Little  Crippled  Girl  slumbered  peacefully  on 
through  the  general  disturbance.  And  as  for 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  herself, —  what  with 
chilling  and  rechilling  melons, —  and  broiling 
and  unbroiling  steaks, —  and  making  and  re 
making  coffee, —  and  hunting  frantically  for  a 
different-sized  water  glass, —  or  a  prettier  col 
ored  plate,  there  was  no  time  for  anything 
except  an  occasional  hurried  surreptitious 
nibble  half  way  between  the  stove  and  the 
table. 

Yet  in  all  that  raucous  early  morning  hour 
together  neither  man  nor  girl  suffered  towards 
the  other  the  slightest  personal  sense  of  con 
trition  or  resentment,  for  each  mind  was 
trained  equally  fairly, —  whether  reacting  on 
its  own  case  or  another's  —  to  differentiate 
pretty  readily  between  mean  nerves  and  a  — 
mean  spirit. 

Only  once  in  fact  across  the  intervening 
chasm  of  crankiness  did  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  hurl  a  smile  that  was  even  remotely 
self-conscious  or  conciliatory.  Glancing  up 
suddenly  from  a  particularly  sharp  and  dis 
agreeable  speech,  he  noted  the  White  Linen 
227 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Nurse's  red  lips  mumbling  softly  one  to  the 
other. 

"Are  you  specially — religious, — Miss 
Malgregor?"  he  grinned  quite  abruptly. 

"No,  not  specially,  sir,"  said  the  White 
Linen  Nurse.  "Why,  sir?" 

"Oh,  it  's  only—  "  grinned  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  dourly,  "it 's  only  that  every  time  I  'm 
especially  ugly  to  you,  I  see  your  lips  moving 
as  though  in  'silent  prayer'  as  they  call  it— 
and  I  was  just  wondering — if  there  was  any 
special  formula  you  used  with  me — that  kept 
you  so — everlastingly — damned  serene.  Is 
there?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

"What  is  it?"  demanded  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  quite  bluntly. 

"Do  I  have  to  tell?"  gasped  the  White 
Linen  Nurse.  A  little  tremulously  in  her 
hand  the  empty  cup  she  was  carrying  rattled 
against  its  saucer.  "Do  I  have  to  tell?"  she 
repeated  pleadingly. 

A  delirious  little  thrill  of  power  went  flut 
tering  through  the  Senior  Surgeon's  heart. 

"Yes,  you  have  to  tell  me!"  he  announced 
quite  seriously. 

228 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

In  absolute  submission  to  his  demand, 
though  with  very  palpable  reluctance,  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  came  forward  to  the  ta 
ble,  put  down  the  cup  and  saucer,  and  began 
to  finger  a  trifle  nervously  at  the  cloth. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  sure  I  did  n't  mean  any  harm, 
sir,"  she  stammered.  "  But  all  I  say  is, — 
honest  and  truly  all  I  say  is, — '  Bah !  He  's 
nothing  but  a  man  —  nothing  but  a  man  — 
nothing  but  a  man ! '  over  and  over  and  over, 
—  just  that,  sir!'7 

Uproariously  the  Senior  Surgeon  pushed 
back  his  chair,  and  jumped  to  his  feet. 

"  I  guess  after  all  I  '11  have  to  let  the  little 
kid  call  you  — '  Peach  ' —  one  day  a  week !  " 
he  acknowledged  jocosely. 

With  infinite  seriousness  then  he  tossed  back 
his  great  splendid  head, —  shook  himself  free 
apparently  from  all  unhappy  memories, —  and 
started  for  his  work-room, —  a  great  gor 
geously  vital,  extraordinarily  talented,  gray- 
haired  603;  lusting  joyously  for  his  own  work 
and  play  again  —  after  a  month's  distressing 
illness ! 

From  the  edge  of  the  hall  he  turned  round 
and  made  a  really  boyish  grimace  at  her. 
229 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Now  if  I  only  had  the  horns  or  the  cloven 
hoof  —  that  you  think  I  have,"  he  called, 
"  what  an  easy  time  I  'd  make  of  it,  raking 
over  all  the  letters  and  ads.  that  are  stacked 
up  on  my  desk !  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Only  once  did  he  come  back  into  the  kitchen 
or  dining-room  for  anything.  It  was  at  seven 
o'clock.  And  the  Wrhite  Linen  Nurse  was 
still  washing  dishes. 

As  radiant  as  a  gray-haired  god  he  towered 
up  in  the  doorway.  The  boyish  rejuvenation 
in  him  was  even  more  startling  than  before. 

"  I  'm  feeling  so  much  like  a  fighting  cock 
this  morning,"  he  said,  "  I  think  I  '11  tackle 
that  paper  on  surgical  diseases  of  the  pancreas 
that  I  have  to  read  at  Baltimore  next 
month!"  A  little  startlingly  the  gray  lines 
furrowed  into  his  cheeks  again.  "  For 
Heaven's  sake  —  see  that  I  'm  not  disturbed 
by  anything!"  he  admonished  her  warningly. 

It  must  have  been  almost  eight  o'clock  when 
the  ear-splitting  scream  from  upstairs  sent 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  plunging  out  panic- 
stricken  into  the  hall. 

"  Oh,    Peach !     Peach !  "    yelled    the    Little 
230 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Girl's  frenzied  voice.  "  Come  quick  and  see 
—  what  Fat  Father  's  doing  now  —  out  on  the 
piazza ! " 

Jerkily  the  White  Linen  Nurse  swerved  off 
through  the  French  door  that  opened  directly 
on  the  piazza.  Had  the  Senior  Surgeon  hung 
himself,  she  tortured,  in  some  wild,  temporary 
aberration  of  the  "morning  after"? 

But  staunchly  and  reassuringly  from  the 
further  end  of  the  piazza,  the  Senior  Surgeon's 
broad  back  belied  her  horrid  terror.  Quite 
prosily  and  in  apparently  perfect  health  he  was 
standing  close  to  the  railing  of  the  piazza.  On 
a  table  directly  beside  him  rested  four  empty 
bird  cages.  Just  at  that  particular  moment  he 
was  inordinately  busy  releasing  the  last  canary 
from  the  fifth  cage.  Both  hands  were 
smouched  with  ink  and  behind  his  left  ear  a 
fountain  pen  dallied  daringly. 

At  the  very  first  sound  of  the  White  Linen 
Nurse's  step  the  Senior  Surgeon  turned  and 
faced  her  with  a  sheepish  sort  of  defiance. 

''Well,  now,  I  imagine,"  he  said,  "well, 
now,  I  imagine  I  Ve  really  made  you  —  mad !  " 

"No,  not  mad,  sir,"  faltered  the  White 
Linen  Nurse.  "  No,  not  mad,  sir, —  but  very 
231 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

far  from  well."  Coaxingly  with  a  perfectly 
futile  hand  she  tried  to  lure  one  astonished 
yellow  songster  back  from  a  swaying  yellow 
bush.  "Why,  they'll  die,  sir!"  she  pro 
tested.  "  Savage  cats  will  get  them !  " 

"  It 's  a  choice  of  their  lives  —  or  mine !  " 
said  the  Senior  Surgeon  tersely. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  droned  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Quite  snappishly  the  Senior  Surgeon  turned 
upon  her.  "  For  Heaven's  sake  —  do  you 
think  —  canary  birds  are  more  valuable  than 
I  am?  "  he  demanded  stentoriously. 

Most  disconcertingly  before  his  glowering 
eyes  a  great,  sad,  round  tear  rolled  suddenly 
down  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  flushed  cheek. 

"  N — o, —  not  more  valuable,"  conceded  the 
White  Linen  Nurse.  "  But  more  —  c-cun- 
ning." 

Up  to  the  roots  of  the  Senior  Surgeon's 
hair  a  flush  of  real  contrition  spread  hotly. 

"Why  — Rae!"  he  stammered.  "Why, 
what  a  beast  I  am!  Why—  !  Why!  "  In 
sincere  perplexity  he  began  to  rack  his  brains 
for  some  adequate  excuse, —  some  adequate 
explanation.  "  Why,  I  'm  sure  I  did  n't  mean 
to  make  you  feel  badly,"  he  persisted.  "  Only 
232 


He  was  inordinately  busy  releasing  the  last  canary  from  the 
fifth  cage. 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

I  've  lived  alone  so  long  that  I  suppose  I  Ve 
just  naturally  drifted  into  the  way  of  having 
a  thing  if  I  wanted  it  and  —  throwing  it  away 
if  I  didn't!  And  canary  birds,  now?  Well 
—  really  — "  he  began  to  glower  all  over 
again.  "  Oh,  thunder !  "  he  finished  abruptly, 
"  I  guess  I  '11  go  on  down  to  the  hospital  where 
I  belong!" 

A  little  wistfully  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
stepped  forward.  "  The  hospital  ?  "  she  said. 
"  Oh, —  the  hospital  ?  Do  you  think  that  per 
haps  you  could  come  home  a  little  bit  earlier 
than  usual  —  to-night  —  and  —  and  help  me 
catch  —  just  one  of  the  canaries?  " 

"  What  ?  "  gasped  the  Senior  Surgeon.  In 
credulously  with  a  very  inky  finger  he  pointed 
at  his  own  breast.  "What?  I?"  he  de 
manded.  "  I  ?  Come  home  —  early  —  from 
the  hospital  to  help  —  you  —  catch  a  ca 
nary?" 

Disgustedly  without  further  comment  he 
turned  and  stalked  back  again  into  the  house. 

The  disgust  was  still  in  his  walk  as  he  left 
the  house  an  hour  later.     Watching  his  exit 
down  the  long  gravel  path  the  Little  Crippled 
Girl  commented  audibly  on  the  matter. 
233 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Peach !  Peach !  "  called  the  Little  Crip 
pled  Girl.  "  What  makes  Fat  Father  walk  so 

—  surprised  ?  " 

People  at  the  hospital  also  commented  upon 
him. 

"  Gee !  "  giggled  the  new  nurses.  "  We  bet 
he  's  a  Tartar!  But  is  n't  his  hair  cute?  And 
say  — "  gossiped  the  new  nurses,  "  is  it  really 
true  that  that  Malgregor  girl  was  pinned 
down  perfectly  helpless  under  the  car  and  he 
would  n't  let  her  out  till  she  'd  promised  to 
marry  him  ?  Is  n't  it  awful?  Is  n't  it  ro 
mantic?  " 

"Why!  Dr.  Faber 's  back!"  fluttered  the 
senior  nurses.  "Isn't  he  wonderful?  Isn't 
he  beautiful?  But,  oh,  say,"  they  worried, 
"  what  do  you  suppose  Rae  ever  finds  to  talk 
with  him  about?  Would  she  ever  dare  talk 
things  to  him, —  just  plain  every-day  things, 

—  hats,     and     going     to    the     theater,     and 
what  to  have   for  breakfast?  —  breakfast?" 
they  gasped.     "  Why,  yes,  of  course !  "  they 
reasoned      more       sanely.     "Steak?     Eggs? 
Even  oatmeal  ?     Why,  people  had  to  eat  —  no 
matter  how  wonderful  they  were!     But  even 
ings?"   they   speculated   more   darkly.     "  But 

234 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

evenings?  "  In  the  whole  range  of  human  ex 
perience  —  was  it  even  so  much  as  remotely 
imaginable  that  —  evenings  —  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  and  —  Rae  Malgregor  —  sat  in  the  ham 
mock  and  held  hands  ?  "  Oh,  Gee !  "  blanched 
the  senior  nurses. 

"  Good-morning,  Dr.  Faber !  "  greeted  the 
Superintendent  of  Nurses  from  behind  her 
austere  office  desk. 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Hartzen ! "  said  the 
Senior  Surgeon. 

"Have  you  had  a  pleasant  trip?"  quizzed 
the  Superintendent  of  Nurses. 

"  Exceptionally  so,  thank  you !  "  said  the 
Senior  Surgeon. 

"And  — Mrs.  Faber,— is  she  well?"  per 
sisted  the  Superintendent  of  Nurses  conscien 
tiously. 

"  Mrs.  Faber?  "  gasped  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
"  Mrs.  Faber  ?  Oh,  yes !  Why,  of  course ! 
Yes,  indeed  —  she  's  extraordinarily  well !  I 
never  saw  her  better !  " 

"  She  must  have  been  —  very  lonely  with 
out  you  —  this  past  month  ?  "  rasped  the 
Superintendent  of  Nurses  —  perfectly  po 
litely. 

235 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"Yes — she  was,"  flushed  the  Senior  Sur 
geon.  "She — she  suffered — keenly!" 

"And  you,  too?"  drawled  the  Superintend 
ent  of  Nurses.  "It  must  have  been  very 
hard  for  you." 

"Yes,  it  was!"  sweated  the  Senior  Sur 
geon.  "I  suffered  keenly,  too!" 

Distractedly  he  glanced  back  at  the  open 
door.  An  extraordinarily  large  number  of 
nurses,  internes,  orderlies,  seemed  to  be  hav 
ing  errands  up  and  down  the  corridor  that 
allowed  them  a  peculiarly  generous  length  of 
neck  to  stretch  into  the  Superintendent's 
office. 

"  Great  Heavens ! "  snapped  the  Senior  Sur 
geon.  "What 's  the  matter  with  everybody 
this  morning?"  Tempestuously  he  started 
for  the  door.  "Hurry  up  my  cases,  please, 
Miss  Hartzen!"  he  ordered.  "Send  them  to 
the  operating  room!  And  let  me  get  to 
work!" 

At  eleven  o'clock,  absolutely  calm,  ab 
solutely  cool, — pure  as  a  girl  in  his  fresh, 
white  operating  clothes — cleaner, — skin,  hair, 
teeth,  hands, — than  any  girl  who  ever  walked 
the  face  of  the  earth,  in  a  white  tiled  room  as 
236 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

surgically  clean  as  himself,  with  three  or  four 
small,  glistening  instruments  still  boiling, 
steaming  hot — and  half  a  dozen  breathless  as 
sistants  almost  as  immaculate  as  himself,  with 
his  gown,  cap  and  mask  adjusted,  his  gloves 
finally  on,  and  the  faintest  possible  little  grin 
twitching  oddly  at  the  corner  of  his  mouth, 
he  "went  in"  as  they  say,  to  a  new  born 
baby's  tortured,  twisted  spine — and  took  out 
—fifty  years  perhaps  of  hunched-back  pain  and 
shame  and  morbid  passions  flourishing  bane- 
fully  in  the  dark  shades  of  a  disordered  life. 

At  half-past  twelve  he  did  an  appendix 
operation  on  the  only  son  of  his  best  friend. 
At  one  o'clock  he  did  another  appendix  oper 
ation.  Whom  it  was  on  did  n't  matter.  It 
could  n't  have  been  worse  on — any  one.  At 
half -past  one  no  one  remembered  to  feed  him. 
At  two,  in  another  man's  operation,  he  saw 
the  richest  merchant  in  the  city  go  wafted 
out  into  eternity  on  the  fumes  of  ether  taken 
for  the  lancing  of  a  stye.  At  three  o'clock,  pass 
ing  the  open  door  of  one  of  the  public  waiting- 
rooms,  an  Italian  peasant  woman  rushed  out 
and  spat  in  his  face  because  her  tubercular 
daughter  had  just  died  at  the  sanitarium 
237 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

where  the  Senior  Surgeon's  money  had  sent 
her.  Only  in  this  one  wild,  defiling  moment 
did  the  lust  for  alcohol  surge  up  in  him  again, 
surge  clamorously,  brutally,  absolutely  merci 
lessly,  as  though  in  all  the  known  cleansants 
of  the  world  only  interminable  raw  whisky 
was  hot  enough  to  cauterize  a  polluted  con 
sciousness.  At  half  past  three,  as  soon  as  he 
could  change  his  clothes  again,  he  re-broke 
and  re-set  an  acrobat's  priceless  leg.  At  five 
o'clock,  more  to  rest  himself  than  anything 
else,  he  went  up  to  the  autopsy  amphitheater 
to  look  over  an  exhibit  of  enlarged  hearts, 
whose  troubles  were  permanently  over. 

At  six  o'clock  just  as  he  was  leaving  the 
great  building  with  all  its  harrowing  sights, 
sounds,  and  smells,  a  peremptory  telephone 
call  from  one  of  the  younger  surgeons  of  the 
city  summoned  him  back  into  the  stuffy  office 
again. 

"Dr.  Faber?" 

"  Yes." 

"This  is  Merkley!" 

"  Yes." 

"  Can  you  come  immediately  and  help  me 
with  that  fractured  skull  case  I  was  telling 

238 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

you  about  this  morning  ?  We  '11  have  to 
trepan  right  away !  " 

"  Trepan  nothing ! "  grunted  the  Senior 
Surgeon.  "  I  've  got  to  go  home  early  to 
night —  and  help  catch  a  canary." 

"  Catch  a  —  what  ?  "  gasped  the  younger 
surgeon. 

"A  canary!"  grinned  the  Senior  Surgeon 
mirthlessly. 

"A  —  what? "  roared  the  younger  man. 

"  Oh,  shut  up,  you  damned  fool!  Of  course 
I  '11  come !  "  said  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

There  was  no  "  boy "  left  in  the  Senior 
Surgeon  when  he  reached  home  that 
night. 

Gray  with  road-travel,  haggard  with  strain 
and  fatigue,  it  was  long,  long  after  the  rosy 
sunset  time, — long,  long  after  the  yellow  sup 
per  light,  that  he  came  dragging  up  through 
the  sweet-scented  dusk  of  the  garden  and 
threw  himself  down  without  greeting  of  any 
sort  on  the  top  step  of  the  piazza,  where  the 
White  Linen  Nurse's  skirts  glowed  palely 
through  the  gloom. 

"  Well,  I  put  a  canary  bird  back  into  its 
cage  for  you !  "  he  confided  laconically.  "  It 
239 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

was  a  little  chap's  soul.     It  sure  would  have 
gotten  away  before  morning/' 

:t  Who  was  the  man  that  tried  to  turn  it 
loose — this  time?"  asked  the  White  Linen 
Nurse. 

"  I  did  n't  say  that  anybody  did !  "  growled 
the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"Oh,"  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 
"  Oh."  Quite  palpably  a  little  shiver  of  flesh 
and  starch  went  rustling  through  her.  "  I  've 
had  a  wonderful  day,  too!"  she  confided 
softly.  "  I  Ve  cleaned  the  attic  and  darned 
nine  pairs  of  your  stockings  and  bought  a 
sewing-machine  —  and  started  to  make  you  a 
white  silk  negligee  shirt  for  a  surprise !  " 

"Eh?"  jerked  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

The  jerk  seemed  to  liberate  suddenly  the 
faint  vibration  of  dishes  and  the  sound  of  ice 
knocking  lusciously  against  a  glass. 

"Oh,  have  you  had  any  supper,  sir?" 
asked  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

With  a  prodigious  sigh  the  Senior  Surgeon 
threw  his  head  back  against  the  piazza  railing 
and  stretched  his  legs  a  little  further  out  along 
the  piazza  floor. 

240 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"Supper?"  he  groaned.  "No!  Nor  din 
ner!  Nor  breakfast!  Nor  any  other  - 
blankety-blank  meal  as  far  back  as  I  can 
remember ! "  Janglingly  in  his  voice,  fatigue, 
hunger,  nerves,  crashed  together  like  the 
slammed  notes  of  a  piano.  "  But  I  would  n't 
— move — now,"  he  snarled,  "if  all  the 
blankety-blank-blank  foods  in  Christendom 
—were  piled  blankety-blank-blank  high — on 
all  the  blankety-blank-blank  tables — in  this 
whole  blankety-blank-blank  house!" 

Ecstatically  the  White  Linen  Nurse  clapped 
her  hands.  "Oh,  that  's  just  exactly  what 
I  hoped  you  'd  say!"  she  cried.  "  'Cause  the 
supper  's — right  here  !" 

"Here?"  snapped  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
Tempestuously  he  began  all  over  again.  "I 
—tell — you — I — would  n't — lift — my — little 
finger — if  all  the  blankety-blank-blank- 
blank—  " 

"Oh,  Goody  then!"  said  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  '  'Cause  now  I  can  feed  you !  I 
sort  of  miss  fussing  with  the  canary  birds," 
she  added  wistfully. 

"Feed  me?"  roared  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
241 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Again  something  started  a  lump  of  ice  tin 
kling  faintly  in  a  thin  glass.  "Feed  me?" 
he  began  all  over  again. 

Yet  with  a  fragrant  strawberry  half  as  big 
as  a  peach  held  out  suddenly  under  his  nose, 
just  from  sheer,  irresistible  instinct  he  bit  out 
at  it  —  and  nipped  the  White  Linen  Nurse's 
finger  instead. 

"Ouch  — sir!"  said  the  White  Linen 
Nurse. 

Mumblingly  down  from  an  upstairs  win 
dow,  as  from  a  face  flatted  smouchingly 
against  a  wire  screen,  a  peremptory  summons 
issued. 

"  Peach !  —  Peach !  "  called  an  angry  little 
voice.     "If  you  don't  come  to  bed  —  now- 
I  '11  —  I  '11    say    my    curses    instead    of    my 
prayers !  " 

A  trifle  nervously  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
scrambled  to  her  feet. 

"Maybe  I'd  — better  go?"  she  said. 

"  Maybe  —  you  had !  "  said  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  quite  definitely. 

At  the  edge  of  the  threshold  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  turned  for  an  instant. 

"Good-night,  Dr.   Faber!"  she  whispered. 
242 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Good-night,  Rae  Malgregor  —  Faber !  " 
said  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"Good-night  —  what?"  gasped  the  White 
Linen  Nurse. 

"  Good-night,  Rae  Malgregor  —  Faber," 
repeated  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

Clutching  at  her  skirts  as  though  a  mouse 
were  after  her,  the  White  Linen  Nurse  went 
scuttling  up  the  stairs. 

Very  late  —  on  into  the  night  —  the  Senior 
Surgeon  lay  there  on  his  piazza  floor  staring 
out  into  his  garden.  Very  companionably 
from  time  to  time,  like  a  tame  firefly, -a  little 
bright  spark  hovered  and  glowed  for  an  in 
stant  above  the  bowl  of  his  pipe.  Puff-puff- 
puff,  doze-doze-doze,  throb-throb-throb, —  on 
and  on  and  on  and  on  —  into  the  sweet-scented 
night. 


243 


CHAPTER  X 

SO  the  days  passed.  And  the  nights.  And 
more  days.  And  more  nights.  July — 
August, — on  and  on  and  on. 

Strenuous,  nerve-racking,  heart-breaking 
surgical  days — broken  maritally  only  by  the 
pleasant,  soft- worded  greeting  at  the  gate,  or 
the  practical,  homely  appeal  of  good  food 
cooked  with  heart  as  well  as  hands,  or  the 
tingling,  inciting  masculine  consciousness 
of  there  being  a  woman's — blush  in  the 
house ! 

Strenuous,  house- working,  child-nursing, 
home-making,  domestic  days — broken  mari 
tally  only  by  the  jaded,  harsh  word  at  the 
gate,  the  explosive  criticism  of  food,  the  dead 
ening,  depressing,  feminine  consciousness  of 
there  being  a  man's — vicious  temper  in  the 
house ! 

Now  and  again  in  one  big  automobile  or 
another  the  White  Linen  Nurse  and  the 
Senior  Surgeon  rode  out  together,  always  and 
244 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

forever  with  the  Little  Crippled  Girl  sitting 
between  them, — the  other  woman's  little 
crippled  girl.  Now  and  again  in  the  late 
summer  afternoons  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
and  the  Senior  Surgeon  strolled  together 
through  the  rainbow-colored  garden,  always 
and  forever  with  the  Little  Crippled  Girl,— 
the  other  woman's  little  crippled  girl,  tagging 
close  behind  them  with  her  little  sad,  clanking 
leg.  Now  and  again  in  the  long  sweet  sum 
mer  evenings  the  White  Linen  Nurse  and  the 
Senior  Surgeon  sat  on  the  clematis-shadowed 
porch  together,  always  and  forever  with  the 
Little  Crippled  Girl, — the  other  woman's 
little  crippled  girl,  mocking  them  querulously 
from  some  vague  upper  window. 

Now  and  again  across  the  mutually  ghost- 
haunted  chasm  that  separated  them  flashed 
the  incontrovertible  signal  of  sex  and  sense, 
as  once  when  a  new  Interne,  grossly  bungling, 
stepped  to  the  hospital  window  with  a  col 
league  to  watch  the  Senior  Surgeon's  car 
roll  away  as  usual  with  its  two  feminine 
passengers. 

"What  makes  the  Chief  so  stingy  with  that 
big  handsome  girl  of  his?"  queried  the  new 
245 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Interne  a  bit  resentfully.  "  He  won't  ever 
bring  her  into  the  hospital !  —  won't  ever  ask 
any  of  us  young  chaps  out  to  his  house! 
And  some  of  us  come  mighty  near  to  being 
eligible,  too !  —  Who  's  he  saving  her  for,  any 
way  ?  —  A  saint  ?  —  A  miracle-worker  ?  —  A 
millionaire  medicine  man  ?  —  They  don't  exist, 
you  know !  " 

"  I  'm  saving  her  for  myself !  "  snapped  the 
Senior  Surgeon  most  disconcertingly  from  the 
doorway.  "  She  —  she  happens  to  be  my 
wife,  not  my  daughter, —  thank  you !  " 

When  the  Senior  Surgeon  went  home  that 
night  he  carried  a  big  bunch  of  magazines  and 
a  box  of  candy  as  large  as  his  head  tucked 
courtingly  under  his  arm. 

Now  and  again  across  the  chasm  that  sep 
arated  them  flashed  the  incontrovertible 
signal  of  mutual  trust  and  appreciation,  as 
when  once,  after  a  particularly  violent  vocal 
outburst  on  the  Senior  Surgeon's  part,  he 
sobered  down  very  suddenly  and  said : 

"  Rae  Malgregor, —  do  you  realize  that  in 
all    the    weeks    we  've   been    together   you  Ve 
never  once  nagged  me  about  my  swearing? 
Not  a  word, —  not  a  single  word !  " 
246 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  I  'm  not  very  used  to  —  words,"  smiled 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  hopefully.  "All  I 
know  how  to  nag  with  is  —  is  raw  eggs!  If 
we  could  only  get  those  nerves  of  yours  pad 
ded  just  once,  sir!  The  swearing  would  get 
well  of  itself." 

In  August  the  Senior  Surgeon  suggested 
sincerely  that  the  house  was  much  too  big  for 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  to  run  all  alone,  but 
conceded  equally  sincerely,  under  the  White 
Linen  Nurse's  vehement  protest,  that  servants, 
particularly  new  servants  did  creak  consid 
erably  round  a  house,  and  that  maybe  "  just 
for  the  present"  at  least,  until  he  finished 
his  very  nervous  paper  on  brain  tumors  per 
haps  it  would  be  better  to  stay  "  just  by  our 
selves." 

In  September  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
wanted  very  much  to  go  home  to  Nova  Scotia 
to  her  sister's  wedding  but  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  was  trying  a  very  complicated  and  wor 
risome  new  brace  on  the  Little  Girl's  leg  and 
it  did  n't  seem  quite  kind  to  go.  In  October 
she  planned  her  trip  all  over  again.  She  was 
going  to  take  the  Little  Crippled  Girl  with 
her  this  time.  But  with  their  trunks  already 
247 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

packed  and  waiting  in  the  hall,  the  Senior 
Surgeon  came  home  from  the  hospital  with  a 
septic  finger  —  and  it  didn't  seem  quite  best 
to  leave  him. 

"  Well,  how  do  you  like  being  married 
novv?"  asked  the  Senior  Surgeon  a  bit 
ironically  in  his  work-room  that  night,  after 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  had  stood  for  an  hour 
with  evil-smelling  washes,  and  interminable 
bandages  trying  to  fix  that  finger  the  precise, 
particular  way  that  he  thought  it  ought  to  be 
fixed.  "Well  —  how  do  you  like  —  being 
married  now?  "  he  insisted  trenchantly. 

"Oh,  I  like  it  all  right,  sir!"  said  the 
White  Linen  Nurse.  A  little  bit  wanly  this 
time  she  smiled  her  pluck  up  into  the  Senior 
Surgeon's  questioning  face.  "  Oh,  I  like  it 
all  right,  sir!  Oh,  of  course,  sir,"  she  con 
fided  thoughtfully  — "  Oh,  of  course,  sir  — 
it  is  n't  quite  as  fancy  as  being  engaged  —  or 
quite  as  free  and  easy  as  being  —  single.  But 
still — "  she  admitted  with  desperate  honesty  — 
"  but  still  there 's  a  sort  of  —  a  sort  of  a 
combination  importance  and  —  and  comfort 
about  it,  sir,  like  a  —  like  a  velvet  suit  —  the 
second  year,  sir." 

248 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"Is  that  — all?"  quizzed  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  bluntly. 

"That's  all  — so  far,  sir,"  said  the  White 
Linen  Nurse. 

In  November  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
caught  a  bit  of  cold  that  pulled  her  down  a 
little.  But  the  Senior  Surgeon  did  n't  notice 
it  specially  among  all  the  virulent  ills  he  lived 
and  worked  with  from  day  to  day.  And  then 
when  the  cold  disappeared,  Indian  Summer 
came  like  a  reeking  sweat  after  a  chill !  And 
the  house  was  big!  And  the  Little  Crip 
pled  Girl  was  pretty  difficult  to  manage  now 
and  then!  And  the  Senior  Surgeon,  no  mat 
ter  how  hard  he  tried  not  to,  did  succeed 
somehow  in  creating  more  or  less  of  a  dis 
turbance  —  at  least  every  other  day  or  two ! 

And  then  suddenly,  one  balmy  gold  and 
crimson  Indian  Summer  morning,  standing 
out  on  the  piazza,  trying  to  hear  what  the 
Little  Crippled  Girl  was  calling  from  the  win 
dow  and  what  the  Senior  Surgeon  was  calling 
from  the  gate,  the  White  Linen  Nurse  fell 
right  down  in  her  tracks,  brutally,  bulkily, 
like  a  worn-out  horse,  and  lay  as  she  fell,  a 
huddled  white  heap  across  the  gray  piazza. 
249 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Oh,  Father !  Come  quick !  Come  quick ! 
Peach  has  deaded  herself!"  yelled  the  Little 
Girl's  frantic  voice. 

Just  with  his  foot  on  the  step  of  his  car 
the  Senior  Surgeon  heard  the  cry  and  came 
speeding  back  up  the  long  walk.  Already 
there  before  him  the  Little  Girl  knelt  raining 
passionate,  agonized  kisses  on  her  beloved 
playmate's  ghastly  white  face. 

"  Leave  her  alone !  "  thundered  the  Senior 
Surgeon.  "Leave  her  alone,  I  say!" 

Bruskly  he  pushed  the  Little  Girl  aside 
and  knelt  to  cradle  his  own  ear  against  the 
White  Linen  Nurse's  heart. 

"Oh,  it's  all  right,"  he  growled,  and 
gathered  the  White  Linen  Nurse  right  up  in 
his  arms  —  she  was  startlingly  lighter  than  he 
had  supposed  —  and  carried  her  up  the  stairs 
and  put  her  to  bed  like  a  child  in  the  great 
sumptuous  guest-room,  in  a  great  sumptuous 
nest  of  all  the  best  linens  and  blankets,  with 
the  Little  Crippled  Girl  superintending  the 
task  with  many  hysterical  suggestions  and 
sharp  staccato  interruptions.  For  once  in  his 
life  the  Senior  Surgeon  did  not  stop  to  quar 
rel  with  his  daughter. 

250 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Rallying  limply  from  her  swoon  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  stared  out  with  hazy  perplexity 
at  last  from  her  dimpling  white  pillows  to  see 
the  Senior  Surgeon  standing  amazingly  at 
the  guest-room  bureau  with  a  glass  and  a 
medicine-dropper  in  his  hand,  and  the  Little 
Crippled  Girl  hanging  apparently  by  her  nar 
row  peaked  chin  across  the  foot-board  of  the 
bed. 

Gazing  down  worriedly  at  the  lace-ruffled 
sleeve  of  her  night-dress  the  White  Linen 
Nurse  made  her  first  public  speech  to  the  — 
world  at  large. 

"  Who —  put  —  me  —  to  —  bed  ?  "  whis 
pered  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Ecstatically  the  Little  Crippled  Girl  began 
to  pound  her  fists  on  the  foot-board  of  the 
bed. 

"  Father  did ! "  she  cried  in  unmistakable 
triumph.  "All  the  little  hooks!  All  the 
little  buttons!  —  wasn't  it  cunning?" 

The  Senior  Surgeon  would  hardly  have 
been  human  if  he  had  n't  glanced  back  sud 
denly  over  his  shoulder  at  the  White  Linen 
Nurse's  precipitously  changing  color.  Quite 
irrepressibly,  as  he  saw  the  red,  red  blood 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

come  surging  home  again  into  her  cheeks,  a 
little  short  chuckling  laugh  escaped  him. 

"  I  guess  you  '11  live  —  now,"  he  remarked 
dryly. 

Then  because  a  Senior  Surgeon  can't  stay 
home  on  the  mere  impulse  of  the  moment 
from  a  great  rushing  hospital,  just  because 
one  member  of  his  household  happens  to  faint 
perfectly  innocently  in  the  morning,  he  hur 
ried  on  to  his  work  again.  And  saved  a 
little  boy,  and  lost  a  little  girl,  and  mended  a 
fractured  thigh,  and  eased  a  gun-shot  wound, 
and  came  dashing  home  at  noon  in  one  of  his 
thousand-dollar  hours  to  feel  the  White  Linen 
Nurse's  pulse  and  broil  her  a  bit  of  tenderloin 
steak  with  his  own  thousand-dollar  hands, — 
and  then  went  dashing  off  again  to  do  one 
major  operation  or  another,  telephoned  home 
once  or  twice  during  the  afternoon  to  make 
sure  that  everything  was  all  right,  and  finding 
that  the  White  Linen  Nurse  was  comfortably 
up  and  about  again,  went  sprinting  off  fifty 
miles  somewhere  on  a  meningitis  consultation, 
and  came  dragging  home  at  last,  somewhere 
near  midnight,  to  a  big  black  house  brightened 
only  by  a  single  light  in  the  kitchen  where  the 
252 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

White  Linen  Nurse  went  tiptoeing  softly 
from  stove  to  pantry  in  deft  preparation  of 
an  appetizing  supper  for  him. 

Quite  roughly  again  without  smile  or  ap 
preciation  the  Senior  Surgeon  took  her  by 
the  shoulders  and  turned  her  out  of  the 
kitchen,  and  started  her  up  the  stairs. 

"  Are  you  an  — -  idiot  ?  "  he  said.  "  Are 
you  an  —  imbecile  ? "  he  came  back  and 
called  up  the  stairs  to  her  just  as  she  was  dis 
appearing  from  the  upper  landing. 

Then  up  and  down,  round  and  round,  on 
and  on  and  on,  the  Senior  Surgeon  began 
suddenly  to  pace  again. 

Only,  for  some  unexplainable  reason  to  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  upstairs,  his  work-room 
did  n't  seem  quite  large  enough  for  his  pacing 
this  night.  Along  the  broad  piazza  she  heard 
his  footsteps  creak.  Far,  far  into  the  morn 
ing,  lying  warm  and  snug  in  her  own  little 
bed,  she  heard  his  footsteps  crackling  through 
the  wet-leafed  garden  paths. 

Yet  the  Senior  Surgeon  didn't  look  an 
atom  jaded  or  forlorn  when  he  came  down  to 
breakfast  the  next  morning.  He  had  on  a 
brand  new  gray  suit  that  fitted  his  big,  power- 

253 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

ful  shoulders  to  perfection,  and  the  glad  glow 
of  his  shower-bath  was  still  reddening 
faintly  in  his  cheeks  as  he  swung  around  the 
corner  of  the  table  and  dropped  down  into  his 
place  with  an  odd  little  grin  on  his  lips  di 
rected  intermittently  towards  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  and  the  Little  Crippled  Girl  who 
already  waited  him  there  at  either  end  of  the 
table. 

"  Oh,  Father,  is  n't  it  lovely  to  have  my 
darling  —  darling  Peach  all  well  again !  " 
beamed  the  Little  Crippled  Girl  with  unusual 
friendliness. 

"Speaking    of    your — 'darling    Peach/' 
said    the     Senior     Surgeon    quite     abruptly. 
"  Speaking    of   your    '  darling    Peach/ —  I  'm 
going  to  —  take  her  away  with  me  to-day  — 
for  a  week  or  so." 

"  Eh?  "  jumped  the  Little  Crippled  Girl. 

"What?  What,  sir?"  stammered  the 
White  Linen  Nurse. 

Quite  prosily  the  Senior  Surgeon  began  to 
butter  a  piece  of  toast.  But  the  little  twinkle 
around  his  eyes  belied  in  some  way  the  utter 
prosiness  of  the  act. 

254 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  For  a  little  trip,"  he  confided  amiably. 
"A  little  holiday!" 

A  trifle  excitedly  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
laid  down  her  knife  and  fork  and  stared  at 
him,  blue-eyed  and  wondering  as  a  child. 

"A  holiday?"  she  gasped.  "To  a  — 
beach,  you  mean  ?  Would  there  be  a  —  a 
roller-coaster  ?  I  Ve  never  seen  a  roller- 
coaster  !  " 

"  Eh  ?  "  laughed  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  going,  too !  I  'm  going,  too ! " 
piped  the  Little  Crippled  Girl. 

Most  jerkily  the  Senior  Surgeon  pushed 
back  his  chair  from  the  table  and  swallowed 
half  a  cup  of  coffee  at  one  single  gulp. 

"  Going  three f  you  mean  ? "  he  glow 
ered  at  his  little  daughter.  "  Going 
three?''  His  comment  that  ensued  was 
distinctly  rough  as  far  as  diction  was  con 
cerned,  but  the  facial  expression  of  ineffable 
peace  that  accompanied  it  would  have  made 
almost  any  phrase  sound  like  a  benediction. 
"  Not  by  a  —  damned  sight !  "  beamed  the 
Senior  Surgeon.  "  This  little  trip  is  just  for 
Peach  and  me !  " 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"But  —  sir?"  fluttered  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  Her  face  was  suddenly  pinker  than 
any  rose  that  ever  bloomed. 

With  an  impulse  absolutely  novel  to  him 
the  Senior  Surgeon  turned  and  swung  his 
little  daughter  very  gently  to  his  shoulder. 

''  Your  Aunt  Agnes  is  coming  to  stay  with 
you — in  just  about  ten  minutes!"  he  af 
firmed.  "  That 's  —  what 's  going  to  happen 
to  you!  And  maybe  there'll  be  a  pony  —  a 
white  pony." 

"  But  Peach  is  so  —  pleasant !  "  wailed  the 
Little  Crippled  Girl.  "  Peach  is  so  pleasant !  " 
she  began  to  scream  and  kick. 

"  So  it  seems !  "  growled  the  Senior  Sur 
geon.  "  And  she  's  —  dying  of  it !  " 

Tearfully  the  Little  Girl  wriggled  down  to 
the  ground,  and  hobbled  around  and  thrust 
her  finger-tip  into  the  White  Linen  Nurse's 
blushiest  cheek. 

"I  don't  want  —  Peach  —  to  —  die,"  she 
admitted  worriedly.  "  But  I  don't  want  any 
body  to  take  her  away !  " 

"  The  pony  is  —  very  white,"  urged  the 
Senior  Surgeon  with  a  diplomacy  quite  alien 
to  him. 

256 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

Abruptly  the  Little  Girl  turned  and  faced 
him.  "What  color  is  Aunt  Agnes?"  she 
asked  vehemently. 

"  Aunt  Agnes  is  —  pretty  white,  too/'  at 
tested  the  Senior  Surgeon. 

With  the  faintest  possible  tinge  of  super 
ciliousness  the  Little  Girl  lifted  her  sharp  chin 
a  trifle  higher. 

"If  it 's  just  a  perfectly  plain  white  pony," 
she  said,  "  I  'd  rather  have  Peach.  But  if 
it 's  a  white  pony  with  black  blots  on  it,  and 
if  it  can  pull  a  little  cart,  and  if  I  can  whip  it 
with  a  little  switch,  and  if  it  will  eat  sugar- 
lumps  out  of  my  hand, —  and  if  its  name  is  — 
is  — '  Beautiful  Pretty-Thing' — " 

"Its  name  has  always  been^ — ( Beautiful 
Pretty-Thing/  I  'm  quite  sure !  "  insisted  the 
Senior  Surgeon.  Inadvertently  as  he  spoke 
he  reached  out  and  put  a  hand  very  lightly  on 
the  White  Linen  Nurse's  shoulder. 

Instantly  into  the  Little  Girl's  suspicious 
face  flushed  a  furiously  uncontrollable  flame 
of  jealousy  and  resentment.  Madly  she 
turned  upon  her  father. 

"You're  a  liar!"  she  screamed.  "There 
is  no  white  pony !  You  're  a  robber !  You  're 
257 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

a  —  a  —  drunk !  You  shan't  have  my  darling 
Peach !  "  And  threw  herself  f renziedly  into 
the  White  Linen  Nurse's  lap. 

Impatiently  the  Senior  Surgeon  disen 
tangled  the  little  clinging  arms,  and  raising 
the  White  Linen  Nurse  to  her  feet  pushed  her 
emphatically  towards  the  hall. 

"  Go  to  my  work-room/'  he  said. 
"Quickly!  I  want  to  talk  with  you!  " 

A  moment  later  he  joined  her  there,  and 
shut  and  locked  the  door  behind  him.  The 
previous  night's  loss  of  sleep  showed  plainly 
in  his  face  now,  and  the  hospital  strain  of  the 
day  before,  and  of  the  day  before  that,  and 
of  the  day  before  that. 

Heavily,  moodily,  he  crossed  the  room  and 
threw  himself  down  in  his  desk  chair  with  the 
White  Linen  Nurse  still  standing  before  him 
as  though  she*  were  nothing  but  a  —  white 
linen  nurse.  All  the  splendor  was  suddenly 
gone  from  him,  all  the  radiance,  all  the  ex 
ultant  purpose. 

"  Well,  Rae  Malgregor,"  he  grinned  mirth 
lessly.  "The  little  kid  is  right,  though  I 
certainly  don't  know  where  she  got  her  in 
formation.  I  am  a  Liar.  The  pony's  name 

258 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

is  not  yet  'Beautiful  Pretty-Thing'!  I  ant 
a  —  Drunk.  I  was  drunk  most  of  June!  I 
am  a  Robber!  I  have  taken  you  out  of  your 
youth — and  the  love-chances  of  your  youth, 
-  and  shut  you  up  here  in  this  great,  gloomy 
old  house  of  mine — to  be  my  slave  —  and 
my  child's  slave  —  and — " 

"  Pouf ! "  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 
"It  would  seem  —  silly  —  now,  sir, —  to 
marry  a  boy !  " 

"  And  I  've  been  a  beast  to  you !  "  persisted 
the  Senior  Surgeon.  "  From  the  very  first 
day  you  belonged  to  me  I  've  been  a  —  beast 
to  you, —  venting  brutally  on  your  youth,  on 
your  sweetness,  on  your  patience, —  all  the 
work,  the  worry,  the  wear  and  tear,  the  ab 
normal  strain  and  stress  of  my  disordered 
days  —  and  years, —  and  I  've  let  my  little 
girl  vent  also  on  you  all  the  pang  and  pain  of 
her  disordered  days!  And  because  in  this 
great,  gloomy,  rackety  house  it  seemed  sud 
denly  like  a  miracle  from  heaven  to  have 
service  that  was  soft- footed,  gentle-handed, 
pleasant-hearted,  I  've  let  you  shoulder  all 
the  hideous  drudgery, —  the  care, —  one  hor 
rid  homely  task  after  another  piling  up-up-up 
259 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

—  till  you  dropped  in  your  tracks  yesterday 

—  still  smiling! " 

"  But  I  got  a  good  deal  out  of  it,  even  so, 
sir ! "  protested  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 
"  See,  sir!  "  she  smiled.  "  I  've  got  real  lines 
in  my  face  —  now  —  like  other  women ! 
I  'm  not  a  doll  any  more !  I  'm  not  a  — " 

:t  Yes ! "  groaned  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
"  And  I  might  just  as  kindly  have  carved 
those  lines  with  my  knife!  But  I  was  going 
to  make  it  all  up  to  you  to-day ! "  he  hurried. 
"  I  swear  I  was !  Even  in  one  short  little 
week  I  could  have  done  it !  You  would  n't 
have  known  me!  I  was  going  to  take  you 
away, —  just  you  and  me !  I  would  have  been 
a  Saint!  I  swear  I  would!  I  would  have 
given  you  such  a  great,  wonderful,  child- 
hearted  holiday  —  as  you  never  dreamed  of 
in  all  your  unselfish  life!  A  holiday  all  you 

—  you  —  you!     You    could    have  —  dug    in 
the    sand    if   you'd    wanted   to!     Gad!     I'd 
have  dug  in  the  sand  —  if  you  'd  wanted  me 
to !     And  now  it 's  all  gone  from  me,  all  the 
will,  all  the  sheer  positive  self-assurance  that 
I  could  have  carried  the  thing  through  —  ab 
solutely  selflessly.     That  little  girl's  sneering 

260 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

taunt  ?  The  ghost  of  her  mother  —  in  that 
taunt?  God!  When  anybody  knocks  you 
just  in  your  decency  it  does  n't  harm  you 
specially!  But  when  they  knock  you  in  your 
Wanting-To-Be-Decent  it  —  it  undermines 
you  somewhere.  I  don't  know  exactly  how ! 
I  'm  nothing  but  a  man  again  —  now,  just  a 
plain,  every  day,  greedy,  covetous,  physical 
man  —  on  the  edge  of  a  holiday,  the  first 
clean  holiday  in  twenty  years, —  that  he  no 
longer  dares  to  take !  " 

A  little  swayingly  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
shifted  her  standing  weight  from  one  foot  to 
the  other. 

"I'm  sorry,  sir!"  said  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "  I  Jd  like  to  have  seen  a  roller- 
coaster,  sir !  " 

Just  for  an  instant  a  gleam  of  laughter 
went  brightening  across  the  Senior  Surgeon's 
brooding  face,  and  was  gone  again. 

"  Rae  Malgregor,  come  here !  "  he  ordered 
quite  sharply. 

Very  softly,  very  glidingly,  like  the  footfall 

of  a  person  who  has  never  known  heels,  the 

White  Linen  Nurse  came  forward  swiftly  and 

sliding  in  cautiously  between  the  Senior  Sur- 

261 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

geon  and  his  desk,  stood  there  with  her  back 
braced  against  the  desk,  her  fingers  straying 
idly  up  and  down  the  edges  of  the  desk,  star 
ing  up  into  his  face  all  readiness,  all  attention, 
like  a  soldier  waiting  further  orders. 

So  near  was  she  that  he  could  almost  hear 
the  velvet  heart-throb  of  her, —  the  little  flut 
tering  swallow, —  yet  by  some  strange,  persist 
ent  aloofness  of  her,  some  determinate  virgin 
ity,  not  a  fold  of  her  gown,  not  an  edge, 
not  a  thread,  seemed  to  even  so  much  as 
graze  his  knee,  seemed  to  even  so  much  as 
shadow  his  hand, —  lest  it  short-circuit  thereby 
the  seething  currents  of  their  variant  emo 
tions. 

With  extraordinary  intentness  for  a  mo 
ment  the  Senior  Surgeon  sat  staring  into  the 
girl's  eyes,  the  blue,  blue  eyes  too  full  of  child 
ish  questioning  yet  to  flinch  with  either  con 
sciousness  or  embarrassment. 

"  After  all,  Rae  Malgregor,"  he  smiled  at 
last,  faintly  — "  After  all,  Rae  Malgregor,— 
Heaven  knows  when  I  shall  ever  get  —  an 
other  holiday !  " 

"  Yes,  sir  ?  "  said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

With  apparent  irrelevance  he  reached  for 
262 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

his  ivory  paper-cutter  and  began  bending  it 
dangerously  between  his  adept  ringers. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  with  me,  Rae 
Malgregor  ?  "  he  asked  quite  abruptly. 

"  Four  months  —  actually  with  you,  sir," 
said  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

"  Do  you  happen  to  remember  the  exact 
phrasing  of  my  —  proposal  of  marriage  to 
you  ?  "  he  asked  shrewdly. 

"Oh,  yes,  sir!"  said  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "  You  called  it  '  general  heartwork 
for  a  family  of  two  '  I  " 

A  little  grimly  before  her  steady  gaze  the 
Senior  Surgeon's  own  eyes  fell,  and  rallied 
again  almost  instantly  with  a  gaze  as  even 
and  direct  as  hers. 

"  Well,"  he  smiled.  "  Through  the  whole 
four  months  I  seem  to  have  kept  my  part  of 
the  contract  all  right  —  and  held  you  merely 
as  a  —  drudge  in  my  home.  Have  you  then 
decided,  once  and  for  all  time, —  whether  you 
are  going  to  stay  on  with  us  —  or  whether 
you  will  '  give  notice '  as  other  drudges  have 
done?" 

With  a  little  backward  droop  of  one  shoul 
der  the  White  Linen  Nurse  began  to  finger 

263 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

nervously  at  the  desk  behind  her,  and  turning 
half  way  round  as  though  to  estimate  what 
damage  she  was  doing,  exposed  thus  merely 
the  profile  of  her  pink  face,  of  her  white 
throat,  to  the  Senior  Surgeon's  questioning 
eyes. 

"  I  shall  never  —  give  notice,  sir !  "  flut 
tered  the  white  throat. 

"  Are  you  perfectly  sure  ? "  insisted  the 
Senior  Surgeon. 

The  pink  in  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  pro 
filed  cheek  deepened  a  little. 

"  Perfectly  sure,  sir !  "  attested  the  carmine 
lips. 

Like  the  crack  of  a  pistol  the  Senior  Sur 
geon  snapped  the  ivory  paper  cutter  in  two. 

"All  right  then!"  he  said.  "  Rae  Mal- 
gregor,  look  at  me!  Don't  take  your  eyes 
from  mine,  I  say!  Rae  Malgregor,  if  I 
should  decide  in  my  own  mind,  here  and  now, 
that  it  was  best  for  you  —  as  well  as  for  me 

—  that  you  should  come  away  with  me  now 

—  for  this  week, —  not  as  my  guest  as  I  had 
planned, —  but  as  my  wife, —  even  if  you  were 
not  quite  ready  for  it  in  your  heart, —  even 
if  you  were  not  yet  remotely  ready  for  it, — 

264 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

would  you  come  because  I  told  you  to  come  ?  " 

Heavily    under    her    white,    white    eyelids, 
heavily    under    her    black,    black    lashes,    the 
'girl's  eyes  struggled  up  to  meet  his  own. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  whispered  the  White  Linen 
Nurse. 

Abruptly  the  Senior  Surgeon  pushed  back 
his  chair  from  the  desk,  and  stood  up.  The 
important  decision  once  made,  no  further 
finessing  of  words  seemed  either  necessary  or 
dignified  to  him. 

"  Go  and  pack  your  suit-case  quickly  then!  " 
he  ordered.  "  I  want  to  get  away  from  here 
within  half  an  hour!  " 

But  before  the  girl  had  half  crossed  the 
room  he  called  to  her  suddenly,  his  whole  bear 
ing  and  manner  miraculously  changed,  and  his 
face  in  that  moment  as  haggard  as  if  a  whole 
lifetime's  struggle  was  packed  into  it. 

"  Rae  Malgregor,"  he  drawled  mockingly. 
"  This  thing  shall  be  —  barter  way  through  to 
the  end, —  with  the  credit  always  on  your  side 
of  the  account.  In  exchange  for  the  gift  — 
of  yourself  —  your  —  wonderful  self  —  and 
the  trust  that  goes  with  it,  I  will  give  you,— 
God  help  me, —  the  ugliest  thing  in  my  life. 

265 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

And  God  knows  I  have  broken  faith  with  my 
self  once  or  twice  but  —  never  have  I  broken 
my  word  to  another !  From  now  on, —  in 
token  of  your  trust  in  me, —  for  whatever  the 
bitter  gift  is  worth  to  you, —  as  long  as  you 
stay  with  me, —  my  Junes  shall  be  yours  —  to 
do  with  —  as  you  please !  " 

"What,  sir?"  gasped  the  White  Linen 
Nurse.  "What,  sir?" 

Softly,  almost  stealthily,  she  was  half  way 
back  across  the  room  to  him,  when  she  stopped 
suddenly  and  threw  out  her  arms  with  a  ges 
ture  of  appeal  and  defiance. 

"  All  the  same,  sir !  "  she  cried  passion 
ately,  "all  the  same,  sir, —  the  place  is  too 
hard  for  the  small  pay  I  get!  Oh,  I  will  do 
what  I  promised !  "  she  attested  with  increas 
ing  passion.  "  I  will  never  leave  you !  And 
I  will  mother  your  little  girl!  And  I  will 
servant  your  big  house!  And  I  will  go  with 
you  wherever  you  say !  And  I  will  be  to  you 
whatever  you  wish!  And  I  will  never  flinch 
from  any  hardship  you  impose  on  me  —  nor 
whine  over  any  pain, —  on  and  on  and  on  — 
all  my  days  —  all  my  years  —  till  I  drop  in 
my  tracks  again  and  —  die  —  as  you  say  '  still 
266 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

smiling ' !  All  the  same ! "  she  reiterated 
wildly,  "  the  place  is  too  hard !  It  always 
was  too  hard!  It  always  will  be  too  hard  — 
for  such  small  pay !  " 

"  For  such  small  pay  ?  "  gasped  the  Senior1 
Surgeon. 

Around  his  heart  a  horrid  clammy  chill  be 
gan  to  settle.  Sickeningly  through  his  brain 
a  dozen  recent  financial  transactions  began  to 
rehearse  themselves. 

"  You  mean,  Miss  Malgregor,"  he  said 
a  bit  brokenly.  "  You  mean  —  that  I  — • 
haven't  been  generous  enough  with  you?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  faltered  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

All  the  storm  and  passion  died  suddenly 
from  her,  leaving  her  just  a  frightened  girl 
again,  flushing  pink-white,  pink-white,  pink- 
white,  before  the  Senior  Surgeon's  scathing 
stare.  One  step,  two  steps,  three,  she  ad 
vanced  towards  him. 

"  Oh,  I  mean,  sir,"  she  whispered,  "  oh,  I 
mean,  sir, —  that  I  'm  just  an  ordinary,  ig 
norant  country  girl  and  you  —  are  further 
above  me  than  the  moon  from  the  sea!  I 
could  n't  expect  you  to  — •  love  me,  sir !  I 
couldn't  even  dream  of  your  loving  me! 
267 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

But  I  do  think  you  might  like  me  just  a  little 
bit  with  your  heart! " 

"What?"  flushed  the  Senior  Surgeon. 
"Whatf" 

Whacketty-bang  against  the  window  pane 
sounded  the  Little  Crippled  Girl's  knuckled 
fists!  Darkly  against  the  window  pane 
squashed  the  Little  Crippled  Girl's  staring 
face. 

"Father!"  screamed  the  shrill  voice. 
"Father!  There's  a  white  lady  here  with 
two  black  ladies  washing  the  breakfast  dishes ! 
Is  it  Aunt  Agnes  ?  " 

With  a  totally  unexpected  laugh,  with  a  to 
tally  unexpected  desire  to  laugh,  the  Senior 
Surgeon  strode  across  the  room  and  unlocked 
his  door.  Even  then  his  lips  against  the 
White  Linen  Nurse's  ear  made  just  a  whis 
per,  not  a  kiss. 

"God  bless  you!  —  hurry!"  he  said. 
"  And  let 's  get  out  of  here  before  any  tele 
phone  message  catches  me !  " 

Then  almost  calmly  he  walked  out  on  the 
piazza  and  greeted  his  sister-in-la^ 

"Hello,  Agnes!"  he  said. 
268 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  Hello,  yourself ! "  smiled  his  sister-in- 
law. 

"  How 's  everything  ? "  he  enquired  po 
litely. 

"  How  's  everything  with  you?  "  parried  his 
sister-in-law. 

Idly  for  a  few  moments  the  Senior  Surgeon 
threw  out  stray  crumbs  of  thought  to  feed 
the  conversation,  while  smilingly  all  the  while 
from  her  luxuriant  East  Indian  chair  his  sis 
ter-in-law  sat  studying  the  general  situation. 
The  Senior  Surgeon's  sister-in-law  was  al 
ways  studying  something.  Last  year  it  was 
archaeology, —  the  year  before,  basketry, —  this 
year  it  happened  to  be  eugenics,  or  some 
thing  funny  like  that, —  next  year  again  it 
might  be  book-binding. 

"  So  you  and  your  pink  and  white  shepherd 
ess  are  going  off  on  a  little  trip  together?" 
she  queried  banteringly.  "  The  girl 's  a  dar 
ling,  Lendicott !  I  have  n't  had  as  much  sport 
in  a  long  time  as  I  had  that  afternoon  last 
June  when  I  came  in  my  best  calling-clothes 
and  —  helped  her  paint  the  kitchen  wood 
work!  And  I  had  come  prepared  to  be  a  bit 

269 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

nasty,  Lendicott!  In  all  honesty,  Lendicott, 
I  might  just  as  well  'fess  up  that  I  had  come 
prepared  to  be  just  a  little  bit  nasty ! " 

"  She  seems  to  have  a  way/'  smiled  the 
Senior  Surgeon,  "  she  seems  to  have  a  way 
of  disarming  people's  unpleasant  intentions." 

A  trifle  quizzically  for  an  instant  the  woman 
turned  her  face  to  the  Senior  Surgeon's.  It 
was  a  worldly  face,  a  cold-featured,  absolutely 
worldly  face,  with  a  surprisingly  humorous 
mouth  that  warmed  her  nature  just  about  as 
cheerfully,  and  just  about  as  effectually,  as 
one  open  fireplace  warms  a  whole  house. 
Nevertheless  one  often  achieved  much  com 
fort  by  keeping  close  to  "  Aunt  Agnes's  "  hu 
morous  mouth,  for  Aunt  Agnes  knew  a  thing 
or  two, — •  Aunt  Agnes  did, —  and  the  things 
that  she  made  a  point  of  knowing  were  con 
scientiously  amiable. 

"Why,  Lendicott  Faber,"  she  rallied  him 
now-.  "  Why,  you  're  as  nervous  as  a  school 
boy  !  Why,  I  believe  —  I  believe  that  you  're 
going  courting !  " 

More  opportunely  than  any  man  could  have 
dared  to  hope,  the  White  Linen  Nurse  ap 
peared  suddenly  on  the  scene  in  her  little  blue 
270 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

serge  wedding-suit  with  her  traveling-case  in 
her  hand.  With  a  gasp  of  relief  the  Senior 
Surgeon  took  her  case  and  his  own  and  went 
on  down  the  path  to  his  car  and  his  chauffeur 
leaving  the  two  women  temporarily  alone. 

When  he  returned  to  the  piazza  the  Woman- 
of-the-World  and  the  Girl-not-at-all-of-the- 
\Vorld  were  bidding  each  other  a  really  affec 
tionate  good-by,  and  the  woman's  face  looked 
suddenly  just  a  little  bit  old  but  the  girl's 
cheeks  were  most  inordinately  blooming. 

In  unmistakable  friendliness  his  sister-in- 
law  extended  her  hand  to  him. 

"  Good-by,  Lendicott,  old  man !  "  she  said. 
"And  good  luck  to  you!"  A  little  slyly 
out  of  her  shrewd  gray  eyes,  she  glanced  up 
sideways  at  him.  '*  You  've  got  the  devil's 
own  temper,  Lendicott  dear,"  she  teased,  "and 
two  or  three  other  vices  probably,  and  if  ru 
mor  speaks  the  truth  you  Ve  run  amuck  more 
than  once  in  your  life, —  but  there  's  one  thing 
I  will  say  for  you, —  though  it  prove  you  a 
dear  Stupid:  you  never  were  over-quick  to 
suspect  that  any  woman  could  possibly  be  in 
love  with  you !  " 

"  To  what  woman  do  you  particularly  re- 
271 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

fer?"    mocked    the    Senior    Surgeon    impa 
tiently. 

Quite  brazenly  to  her  own  heart  which  never 
yet  apparently  had  stirred  the  laces  that  en 
shrined  it,  his  sister-in-law  pointed  with  per 
sistent  banter. 

"  Maybe  I  refer  to  —  myself,"  she  laughed, 
"  and  maybe  to  the  only  —  other  lady  pres 
ent!" 

"  Oh!  "  gasped  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

"  You  do  me  much  honor,  Agnes,"  bowed 
the  Senior  Surgeon.  Quite  resolutely  he  held 
his  gaze  from  following  the  White  Linen 
Nurse's  quickly  averted  face. 

A  little  oddly  for  an  instant  the  older  wom 
an's  glance  hung  on  his.  "  More  honor  per 
haps  than  you  think,  Lendicott  Faber !  "  she 
said,  and  kept  right  on  smiling. 

"  Eh  ?  "  jerked  the  Senior  Surgeon.  Rest 
ively  he  turned  to  the  White  Linen  Nurse. 

Very  flushingly  on  the  steps  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  knelt  arguing  with  the  Little 
Crippled  Girl. 

"  Your  father  and  I  are  —  going  away," 
she  pleaded.  "  Won't  you  —  please  —  kiss  us 
good-by?  " 

272 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

"  I  've  only  got  one  kiss/'  sulked  the  Little 
Crippled  Girl. 

"  Give  it  to  your  —  father !  "  pleaded  the 
White  Linen  Nurse. 

Amazingly  all  in  a  second  the  ugliness  van 
ished  from  the  little  face.  Dartlingly  like  a 
bird  the  Child  swooped  down  and  planted  one 
large  round  kiss  on  the  Senior  Surgeon's  as 
tonished  boot. 

"Beautiful  Father!"  she  cried,  "I  kiss 
your  feet !  " 

Abruptly  the  Senior  Surgeon  plunged  from 
the  step  and  started  down  the  walk.  His 
cheek-bones  were  quite  crimson. 

Two  or  three  rods  behind  him  the  White 
Linen  Nurse  followed  falteringly.  Once  she 
stopped  to  pick  up  a  tiny  stick  or  a  stone. 
And  once  she  dallied  to  straighten  out  a 
snarled  spray  of  red  and  brown  woodbine. 

Missing  the  sound  or  the  shadow  of  her 
the  Senior  Surgeon  turned  suddenly  to  wait. 
So  startled  was  she  by  his  intentness,  so  flus 
tered,  so  affrighted,  that  just  for  an  instant  the 
Senior  Surgeon  thought  that  she  was  going  to 
wheel  in  her  tracks  and  bolt  madly  back  to  the 
house.  Then  quite  unexpectedly  she  gave  an 
273 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

odd,  muffled  little  cry,  and  ran  swiftly  to  him 
like  a  child,  and  slipped  her  bare  hand  trust 
ingly  into  his.  And  they  went  on  together  to 
the  car. 

With  his  foot  already  half  lifted  to  the  step 
the  Senior  Surgeon  turned  abruptly  around 
and  lifted  his  hat  and  stood  staring  back  bare 
headed  for  some  unexplainable  reason  at  the 
two  silent  figures  on  the  piazza. 

"  Rae,"  he  said  perplexedly,  "  Rae,  I  don't 
seem  to  know  just  why — but  somehow  I  'd  like 
to  have  you  kiss  your  hand  to  Aunt  Agnes ! " 

Obediently  the  White  Linen  Nurse  with 
drew  her  ringers  from  his  and  wafted  two 
kisses,  one  to  "  Aunt  Agnes  "  and  one  to  the 
Little  Crippled  Girl. 

Then  the  Wrhite  Linen  Nurse  and  the  Sen 
ior  Surgeon  climbed  up  into  the  tonneau  of 
the  car  where  they  had  never,  never  sat 
alone  before,  and  the  Senior  Surgeon  gave  a 
curt  order  to  his  man  and  the  big  car  started 
off  again  into  —  interminable  spaces. 

Mutely  without  a  word,  without  a  glance 

passing    between    them    the    Senior    Surgeon 

held  out  his  hand  to  her  once  more,  as  though 

the  absence  of  her  hand  in  his  was  suddenly  a 

274 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

lonesomeness  not  to  be  endured  again  while 
life  lasted. 

Whizz  —  whizz  —  whizz  —  whirr  —  whirr 
—  whirr  the  ribbony  road  began  to  roll  up 
again  on  that  hidden  spool  under  the  car. 

When  the  chauffeur's  mind  seemed  suffi 
ciently  absorbed  in  speed  and  sound  the  Sen 
ior  Surgeon  bent  down  a  little  mockingly  and 
mumbled  his  lips  inarticulately  at  the  White 
Linen  Nurse. 

"  See !  "  he  laughed.  "  I  Ve  got  a  text,  too, 
to  keep  my  courage  up!  Of  course  you 
look  like  an  angel!"  he  teased  closer  and 
closer  to  her  flaming  face.  "  But  all  the  time 
to  myself  —  to  reassure  myself  —  I  just  keep 
saying  — '  Bah !  She  's  nothing  but  a  Woman 
-- —  nothing  but  a  Woman  —  nothing  but  a 
Woman'!" 

Within  the  Senior  Surgeon's  warm,  firm 
grasp  the  White  Linen  Nurse's  calm  hand 
quickened  suddenly  like  a  bud  forced  precip 
itously  into  full  bloom. 

"Oh,  don't  — talk,  sir,"  she  whispered. 
"Oh,  don't  talk,  sir!  Just  —  listen !" 

"Listen?  Listen  to  what?"  laughed  the 
Senior  Surgeon. 

275 


THE  WHITE  LINEN  NURSE 

From  under  the  heavy  lashes  that  shadowed 
the  flaming  cheeks  the  Soul  of  the  Girl  who 
was  to  be  his  peered  up  at  the  Soul  of  the 
Man  who  was  to  be  hers, —  and  saluted  what 
she  safiv! 

"  Oh,  my  heart,  sir !  "  whispered  the  White 
Linen  Nurse.  "  Oh,  my  heart!  My  heart! 
my  heart!" 


THE   END 


276 


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HIM      Q     1Q38 

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r**^'  '.'•      .'    '• 

,  \4Jul5  ° 

O 

3 

LD  21-95m-7,'37 


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